


Seiri

by Quieta



Series: To Bleed [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood Kink, Breastfeeding, Childbirth, Coming of Age, F/F, F/M, Female Friendship, Female Protagonist, Forced Pregnancy, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Lesbian Sex, Masturbation, Matriarchy, Menstruation, Mental Instability, Morning Sickness, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Non-Penetrative Sex, Rape, Rape- Female on Male, Revenge Sex, Rough Body Play, Self-Harm, Sort-Of Ancient Japan, Strangulation, Suicide, Threesome, Tribadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 16:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 33
Words: 54,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1717451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quieta/pseuds/Quieta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I remember, very clearly, the day I became a woman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I remember, very clearly, the day I became a woman.

I had felt a dull ache in my abdomen beforehand, a niggling pain that distracted me and made me short-tempered. When one of my maids was fixing my hair, I barked at her when she accidentally pulled it. “Misayo-hime is in a bad mood…” Kaeko said softly, withdrawing. I felt sorry almost as soon as I saw her dark, hurt gaze. 

That afternoon I sat, practicing my writing skills. I was cross-legged in my room, a window shining bright sunlight onto the desk. My pen dipped up and down, tracing symbols on the yellow parchment. I had never been good at reading or writing, unlike my mother. Neither was I good at the naginata. I just had to keep at it, said one of my other maidservants, Mareko. Soon I would improve, and my mother would become proud of me. Mareko was always so cheerful. Just her presence seemed to clear rainclouds away.

I traced my pen up and down the paper, wincing as I felt the pain heighten. I hoped I hadn’t eaten anything bad. Once I had eaten a few strange red berries off a bush when I was a little girl and spent the next week vomiting and spasming. Just the memory of it made me shudder.

I shifted uncomfortably, and suddenly became aware of dampness on my thighs. Flushing, I wondered if my lady-juices had all leaked out of me. I had begun feeling wet between my legs a year or so ago, and when I asked my maidservants, they just giggled and said, “Misayo-hime is about to become a woman!”

I gingerly lifted the hem of my kimono. What I saw nearly stopped my heart.

My thighs were smeared with blood, thick and red. Little dark clots were stuck here and there, and before my horrified eyes a new trickle made its way down my leg, 

I stood up in a hurry, nearly upsetting my inkwell. “Mother!” I screamed. “Sakue! Kaeko! Help!”

My screams soon alerted the household, and soon I was surrounded my concerned servants and maids. I realized that the cook and some bodyguards, all men, were there as well, and I felt tears of humiliation spring to my eyes as they asked me what was wrong.

“Misayo!” I had never been happier to hear my mother’s sharp voice. She elbowed her way through the crowd, turning her imperious gaze upon me. “Misayo, what’s the matter? Are you hurt?”

“I…I…” Tears flowed down my cheeks. She took me by my shoulders and shook me. Nearly collapsing with embarrassment, I whispered in her ear, my voice almost cracking. “I’m bleeding from my lady-place…”

She stiffened, and her eyes widened. She looked at all the concerned servants, clustered around me. Emie, always a little baby, was sobbing.

“Get back to work, all of you!” she said sharply. “There’s nothing wrong. Go on, go!”

They dispersed, looking back in worry, but soon all of them, even my maidservants, were gone. My mother took me by the hand and pulled me towards her room.

Once in there, she gave me some hot tea and gave me a bundle of cloths to put between my legs. My tears had dried by now, mostly to be replaced by bewilderment. Why was she acting so unworried? Wasn’t I bleeding to death?

I sat at the table, my legs folded, hesitantly sipping tea while she took her place opposite me. “Misayo,” she began. “You’re getting your period.”

I looked at her, eyes wide. “Period…?” I said.

She nodded. “Yes. I thought it wouldn’t happen for a few more years… it seems I was wrong. You’re still only twelve. I didn’t think I needed to explain it to you yet.”

“What’s a period?” I burst out. “Why am I bleeding?”

“It means you’ve reached maturity. Your body is ready to become a mother.”

I blinked as the information sunk in. Wreaths of steam spiraled into the air as she poured herself some tea.

“Does that mean I will get pregnant?” I asked softly.

“Yes,” she said. “But only if you make love with a man. When you get married and lay with your husband, you will become pregnant.”

“Will I get married now?” I said, starting to panic. I didn’t know anything about making love, or even about men. The thought of going far away from my parents’ house with some strange man made me want to cry.

She sighed. “Not now, Misayo. You’re far too young. I have no doubt some families have no compunctions about marrying their daughter off as soon as she reaches maturity—“ at this her lip curled in disgust—“But we are not one of those families. You won’t be married for a long time, Misayo.”

I let out my breath in relief. Taking another sip of my tea, I noticed that the pain in my belly had begun to recede. Perhaps the tea had some sort of anesthetic quality.

“You are excused from your duties the rest of the week,” said my mother. “You will stay with your maidservants in your room for the rest of the day and rest. And tonight, we will have red beans and rice for dinner.” She looked at me then, and smiled, one of the few genuine smiles my mother had ever given. And I found myself smiling back.


	2. Chapter 2

As the years passed, I learned more about women and men, and children and birth. My body matured, my small buds of breasts filling out until they jutted against the fabric of my kimono. I grew a downy layer between my legs, and my waist became more slender. I was becoming a woman, a real woman, one who would slash with the naginata, manage the household funds, and write letters to her friends. Those activities were still far-off. But I liked to think I would perform all of them, in time.

And I would…

Have children.

That thought seemed very distant to me, and I didn’t like thinking about it. It was kind of a scary prospect. Sex, pregnancy, birth, they all seemed very alien to me. But I was about to have a very close encounter with it, one that would completely change my life.

It started with my father and brother coming home.

He and the emperor had been fighting in some far-off land, and he was finally allowed a chance to come home and see his family. I remember seeing a messenger running down the road, stumbling into the house and yelling, “Lord Ashikage is coming!”

The household was thrown into disarray as they prepared for his arrival. Sake was brewed, food was cooked, and I spent the entire day pacing back and forth in front of the house, impatient for their arrival—at least until my mother spotted me and yelled at me to get back to my naginata training. I had actually become quite good at it by now, and wondered if any of my father’s soldiers would let me spar with them.

When my father finally came into view, cheering erupted among the servants that had gathered at the end of the road. My mother and I were in the front, our arms folded in the traditional way. I could barely stop myself from running and wrapping my arms around my father’s neck as he approached. I noted that he looked somewhat tired as he drew closer, but my little brother was practically glowing with excitement. When my mother and father bowed to each other, finally we were able to greet each other how we wanted. 

My brother and I embraced each other, laughing, while my parents kissed. My father picked me up, as he had done when I was a small child, and carried me all the way back to the house.

When my brother Danjirou had left with my father, he had been a mere boy of ten, but now, two years later, he had become a young man, carrying a full-length sword in his strong hands. He demonstrated his swing to me by cutting down wooden poles in the yard, but still blushed wildly when Mareko flirted with him. 

Danjirou and I had been close as we grew up together, and the simple fact of his absence had not changed a thing. Soon we were chasing each other through the house, testing our weapons against each other and laughing as we swapped stories.

We celebrated all night, drinking sake and eating to our heart’s content. My father seemed tired from the relentless feuding he had done abroad, but he had it in him to return my mother’s amorous glances, and soon they were sitting right beside each other, her head resting on his shoulder. My maidservants were mingling with the soldiers, teasing and laughing and admiring their weapons. Danjirou was getting tipsy off sake, and kept collapsing in spasms of laughter when I tickled him.

“Is it true that you fought Oni while you were away?” I asked my father, fending off Danjirou’s attempts to tickle me back.

He smiled. “We did.”

“Oh, wow! What was it like? Were they as horrifying as they say?”

He shook his head. “No, they mostly look human, although their appearance can sometimes be very different. They can have odd hair colors. They’ve got horns, fangs and claws, and their eyes can be yellow or red, and they are far stronger than a human. It’s a good thing we only fought a few. Lord Mitsukashi fought the bulk of them, to the north, and his forces were decimated. They are terrifying to face.” His eyes unfocused as memories came to surface. A lot of the household had hushed as they listened to his tale. Suzume, a serving girl, was clinging to a soldier’s arm, her eyes wide as saucers.

“They can bend a sword and twist it into a knot. They can tear off a soldier’s head and drink their blood. I saw a boy-Oni, a few years younger than Danjirou, defeat a seasoned soldier with his bare hands. One Oni gored a soldier’s eye out with his horn.”

“Onis have horns?” asked Mareko loudly. “Do they have them from birth?”

“From what I’ve heard, yes,” said my father. Mareko laughed. “It must be terrible giving birth to a baby with sharp horns! No wonder Oni women are grumpy all the time!”

Her joke dispersed the tension, and soon everyone was drinking and laughing again. I fell down as Danjirou tackled me, trying to tickle beneath my chin. I was curious about the Oni, but I let it go. The look in my father’s eyes told me that just remembering it haunted him.

They stayed for two weeks, two wonderful, festive weeks. My brother and I played almost every day, feeding the koi fish, climbing trees, tossing a ball between us like we were children again. I could tell he was embarrassed by doing such childlike activities, but the fun we were having eclipsed any of his misgivings. We had been separated for so long, and just wanted to enjoy one another’s company. 

The soldiers even allowed me to test my naginata against them, giving me a few helpful hints as to defending myself. I was becoming quite good at it by the time they had to leave.

The day before they departed, I moped around the mansion with my brother, not even willing to watch him demonstrate his sword skills to me. Now that they were leaving my old worries started up again, that they would go and die in battle, and we would never see them again. Even if Danjirou assured me that the fighting was drawing to a close, I couldn’t keep from fretting.

That night, I decided I wanted to see my father one more time, before formally bidding him goodbye. I wanted to hug him and remember the times we spent together, when he carried me on his shoulders and told me stories of brave heroes, beautiful princesses, terrifying youkai, but when I got scared he then held me and reassured me he would always protect me and my mother. We had been so happy then, just the three of us, before all the fighting started.

As I approached their room, I heard voices, and when I made out the word “Oni” I stopped dead in my tracks. My father had never mentioned anything about Oni after the first night, and I was curious as to why he was talking about it now. Tiptoeing, I reached their door and pressed my ear against it.

“Horrifying,” he said, his voice soft. “All the blood, the bodies… Danjirou has never seen the thick of a battle like that, and I pray he never will.”

“Don’t you want your son to grow up to be a fine warrior?” This was my mother’s voice, uncharacteristically gentle.

“I did at one time, but… not like this. To fight an Oni and to fight a human are two very different things. He would never stand a chance against an Oni.”

He took a deep breath and let it out in a shaky sigh. “I was the only one of a whole group to fight Oni and survive. We were ambushed. There were twenty of us and only nine of them, but even so…”

He stopped then, his voice seeming to fail him. I heard the slide of cloth and then my mother’s voice. “Aritomo, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No,” he said. “I have to tell someone. If I leave tomorrow, and die and never see you again… I at least want you to know. The Oni set upon us, deflecting our sword blows as if they were no more than flies on a horse. They tore through us like a scythe through a field. Our swords became useless, tossed aside, and their swords cleaved through our bodies. Blood soaked the ground, splattered the trees. All I can remember are their eyes, their fangs, their swords. Twenty men, annihilated, just like that, and only two fatalities to the Oni.

“When I awoke I was in a pile with the dead bodies of my comrades. I had an injury on the side of my head. I must have gotten knocked out in the middle of the battle. I managed to get out and travel back to the rest of my men, but I never forgot it. The Oni were the most horrifying opponents I have ever faced, and I say that as a man who has seen many, many battles.”

There was a fear in my father’s voice, a fear that I had never heard before. The thought of such creatures that could make my brave father terrified out of his wits made me shudder. I hoped I never, ever encountered one.

“There’s another reason why I am telling you this,” said my father, and his voice was clearer. “Okibu, after we’re gone, you’ve got to keep your guard up. There are Oni forces near here.”

“How near?” asked my mother softly.

“At Jijunboro. I know it seems far, but there’s a chance they may decide to come closer. If they do, be sure to be prepared.”

“We will,” she said. “I promise you that. I will keep everyone safe.”

“Thank you,” he said, and I could hear the relief in his voice. I heard the rustle of cloth and a moan from my mother, and I knew it was time to leave. My heart thudding, I thought back to my father’s words. Oni, near here. If they attacked, and if they were as ferocious as my father said… 

I brushed off the thought with a shudder. Of course my mother would protect us. She was the strongest person I knew, both in mind and in skill. But I still found my thoughts wandering back to the Oni, and my dreams that night were fitful, filled with sharp teeth and red eyes and swords.


	3. Chapter 3

A month or so after my father and his men left, I found Sakue acting strangely. She was pale and harried, and oftentimes forgot her duties. I soon began to have to ask her twice when I wanted her to do something.

Sakue was the only one of my maidservants older than me, and she had been my precious playmate and older sister throughout my childhood. I admired her gentleness, her calmness, her maturity and beauty. She was always ready to give me advice and to soothe me. Her sudden change in temperament concerned not only me but my other maidservants, who had known her for as long as I had.

Her hands were shaking as she combed my hair. I looked at her face in the mirror facing us. While I was calm and relaxed, her face was tense and her eyebrows were drawn in a frown. Finally mustering up my will, I asked her. “Sakue, are you feeling well?”

“What?” her voice came out in a squeak. “Misayo-hime, I’m fine. Now stay still so I can brush the rest of your hair.”

“I know you’re worried about something,” I pressed. “Tell me. It’s all right.”

“I swear, I’m fine!” she snapped. I was startled into silence. Sakue never snapped. She was always serene and patient.

I didn’t ask her again, and her behavior continued to worsen. She became argumentative and distracted, to the point where I stopped asking her to do anything. She barely ate, and when she did eat it was only a small bit.  
My own mother had even summoned her to her chambers to ask what the problem was. When Sakue emerged there were tears in her eyes.

Finally, one day came. That day that all was revealed to me, the day that shook my life to the very core.

My maidservants and I were shelling rice outside when I noticed that Sakue wasn’t with me. I shielded my eyes, gazing up at the sun. We still had hours to go, and Sakue wasn’t even showing up to help us. Feeling suddenly angry, I got up.

“Misayo-hime?” Kaeko lifted her head, pausing in her work.

“I’m going to find Sakue,” I said, turning towards the house. My fists were clenched. I was fed up with her behavior. I would confront her about this time, and I wouldn’t no for an answer. She would tell me what was bothering her, and she would stop being so depressed. I stormed into the house, any servant to who saw me withdrawing immediately, knowing immediately that Misayo-hime was in a bad mood.

As I drew closer to my chambers, I could hear soft crying coming from them. My anger evaporating, I slowed my pace, sliding the door open gingerly

Sakue was sitting on the bed, her face in her hands. Sobs shook her body, and her shoulders heaved. I quickly slid the door shut, and approached her. “Sakue, what’s wro—“

She lurched forward, falling at my feet. Wailing, she gripped the hem of my kimono. “Misayo-hime! Forgive me! Forgive me!”

“Sakue! Control yourself!” I gripped her by her wrists and pulled her up. “Tell me what’s going on! Tell me everything!”

Still gasping, she took my hand and guided it to her belly. When I slid my hand over it, I felt a bump, small but still there. With a horrifying jolt, I realized what had happened to her.

“Sakue…” I breathed. “You’re pregnant.”

She nodded, tears still streaming down her cheeks. “It was a soldier. We met when your father was here, and we… we talked, and he was so interesting, and eventually we… I shouldn’t have, I really shouldn’t have…”

She dissolved into sobs once again, and I stared at her, my entire body cold. There was little to no chance she would ever see that man again. If the fighting ended, more likely than not he would just return to his family and forget all about her. And if it didn’t end, it was very possible that he would die in battle.

I took her by the shoulders and guided her over to the bed. “Sssh,” I said. “It’s all right.”

“It’s not all right!” she wailed out again. “Now that I’m pregnant I can’t work here anymore! Lady Okibu already told me that if I kept acting like this she would have to let me go! Now I’ll be driven out, and since I don’t have any family to take me back in, I could die, or I’ll have to become a prostitute—“

“No!” I burst out. The thought of my friend, my dear older sister, forced to sell her body on some street corner horrified me to no end. “We’ll figure out something. I promise. I’ll fight to make sure you stay here, Sakue! I’ll never abandon you!”

Still teary, she looked up at me. “Misayo-hime… oh, Misayo-hime, thank you… thank you so much!”

I hugged her tightly, burying my face in her hair, and let her cry on my shoulder. My mind was whirling with ideas on how to keep her here and hide her pregnancy.

I detached from her for a moment and looked at her. “Have you ever considered an abortion?”

“Yes, I have. But it’s so dangerous. There’s a big chance I could die, and I’m scared.”

“There’s a chance you could die in childbirth, too,” I reminded her. She shook her head. “There aren’t any wise women near her who could give me one. We’d would have to make an excuse so we could go, and take a horseback ride, and you know, just two women, traveling alone, we could be attacked by bandits or—“

She was carrying on, crying again, and I saw that I could never convince her. I stroked her hair, soothing her as she had soothed me many times in the past.  
”All right. If you don’t want to abort it, we’ll find something else to do. We’ll figure something out.”

***

Over the passing months, Sakue wore bigger and bigger kimonos, and as her pregnancy progressed, she began staying largely in my room. I let only one other person in on us, the quiet Kaeko. She was smart and could keep a secret, and often fetched food and looked after Sakue when I was away training.

I couldn’t keep my eyes off Sakue as her belly swelled, and I often lay beside her, my hand on it. When I felt the first stirring of movement, we both laughed and hugged each other. I was anticipating the birth almost as much as Sakue, and I felt like an auntie waiting for her sister’s child to be born.

But as time passed, I also began worrying more. Sakue seemed completely in love with the child in her belly, even though she would have to give it up once it was born. And I… I didn’t want to give it up either. We spent so much time talking about it, tending to her pregnancy, that the idea that there wouldn’t be a little baby at the end to hold and keep seemed impossible.

I asked Kaeko to locate parchments and knowledge on midwifery, and we spent a long time reading and memorizing the information. I felt strangely happy at the new things I learned. Pregnancy and childbirth seemed like a miracle, an amazing thing to experience, and I felt myself waiting eagerly to witness it.

When the final month of her pregnancy came, it was snowing outside. The weather was so cold most people were holed up in their rooms, huddling near lanterns. Kaeko, Sakue and I were all sleeping in one bed. We had unceremoniously evicted the other maids several months ago when the chilly weather had started, telling them to sleep with my mother, who was probably cold without any of her own maidservants. Our real reason for doing so was that Sakue had gotten so big that it was impossible not to notice, especially when she slept in bed with us.

I was awoken in the middle of the night by Sakue’s hand, shaking my shoulder. I blinked, bleary, and turned to her. “What’s wrong?” I asked her hoarsely. “Misayo-hime…” she whispered, her voice cracking. “It’s happening. I’m having the baby.”

I was up in an instant, my grogginess gone, shaking Kaeko awake, getting Sakue comfortable while Kaeko lit the lanterns.

Her face was red in the light, straining. “You’re just having contractions,” I told her. “It will take a while for the baby to start coming out. You must not scream, okay? I know it’s going to be hard, but you have to try as much as you can not to make a lot of noise.”

That’s right. If they heard the screams, and burst inside, and found a woman giving birth…. I tried to calm my thudding heart, knowing that it would be the end if they found out.

Time passed. We put damp washcloths on her face, her body. We massaged her nipples to help with the contractions. When it was the right time, Kaeko checked to see if her cervix was dilating.

“It is,” she said. “The birth’s going naturally.”

I nearly wept with relief, even if I knew that something could still go wrong at another stage. Sakue was taking deep breaths, sweat running down her neck. Kaeko and I each hoisted an arm across our shoulders and helped her walk around the room. “It’ll help make the birth faster,” we told her as she winced in pain.

Finally, a wash of fluid stained her legs and puddled on the ground. “That was your water breaking,” I said. “The birth is going to start soon.”

When the pain was making tears stream down her face, Kaeko checked once more to see if her cervix was fully dilated. Assured that it was, she stroked Sakue’s hair, murmuring words of comfort. I hugged her tightly, one hand resting on her swollen belly. We both sat there for a moment, holding her, all three of us aware of what was occurring. The birth of a child, a new little person.

We pulled her up and walked her around the room again, her feet dragging a little. She kept her mouth shut as a strangled whimper came from her throat, and soon blood was dotting her underdress. We led her over to the bed, sat her down and rolled up the hem of the kimono until her entire body from the waist down was exposed.

As each minute passed, the tension heightened. Blood covered our arms up to our elbows, and Sakue was screaming in her throat on each contraction. She gasped and strained, our sheets becoming increasingly soiled with the fluids of her birth. I had no idea how we were going to dispose of them.

I reached a hand inside her to see if there was any blockage, or if—god forbid—the baby was being born breech, but my fingertips brushed the crown of its head, and I reassured her. “It’s coming,” I said. “I can feel it!”

Sakue nodded, keeping her jaw clamped shut. She was probably afraid she would scream if she opened her mouth. She trembled, and heaved, and I only just managed to snatch a bowl before she vomited.

Childbirth was messy.

I finally rolled up a piece of fabric for her to bite down on, and she clamped her teeth down on it, her messy hair flowing over her shoulders and big belly. She looked so different from the beautiful, calm, well-groomed girl we normally saw. It was as if we were seeing a completely different side of her, the pain stripping away her calm veneer. We were connected in that moment, her experience seeming to belong to all of us. My hand found Kaeko’s, and I squeezed it.

Finally, with one last push, the head came into view. I held my arms in a basket as Kaeko loosed the entrance, and soon the shoulders emerged. Sakue was panting, her head tilted up towards the ceiling. Kaeko gave the baby a small tug, and it fell out into my arms.

It was slippery, and I nearly dropped it, but I managed to awkwardly cradle it while Kaeko cut the umbilical cord. I felt it move, small twitches in my arms, and I felt hot tears well in my eyes and soak my face.

Sakue finally took her head down, and saw her baby. “It’s a girl,” I said, wrapping it in a sheet. Sakue held her arms out for it, and I hesitated. Then I saw her face and knew there was no way we give this baby up.

I handed it to her and she gave it her breast, while Kaeko and I cleaned up. We stacked the bloodstained cloths and clothes in one corner, cleaned ourselves, Sakue, and the baby. And then we sat down.

The baby was feeding normally, and Sakue looked down at her with the utmost affection. “She’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“She is,” I said. “And we need to find out a way to keep her.”

Kaeko leaned over and held the baby’s small hand. “We’ll have to tell the adoptive family that we won’t be giving them the child.” She sighed. “They really wanted it.”

I winced. The couple we were planning on giving it to were a childless older couple who desperately wanted someone to love and take care of them in their old age. But looking at Sakue holding her baby, it was impossible to do anything else.

The baby was being mercifully quiet, and Sakue looked up, smiling, only to have her smile disappear when she met our somber faces. “You haven’t thought of anything?” she whispered. I swallowed. “I have one idea. But it’s dangerous.”

“What?” asked Kaeko, as Sakue’s brows drew together in worry.

“One of us takes the baby outside,” I say. “We leave it there until the doorman puts out the lights, which shouldn’t be long.” I glanced out the window, seeing the first rays of dawn begin to creep over the horizon.

“When he finds the baby and takes it in, we’ll volunteer to take care of it.”

“But what if Lady Okibu doesn’t let us?” Sakue clutched the baby to her chest.

“We’ll have to take a chance. We don’t have any other choice. They’re going to find the baby sooner or later.”

I held my arms out for the baby, and Sakue hesitated for a moment for shakily handing it over. Her face was drawn and wan, and I stood up while Kaeko put her arms around Sakue. She was shaking and clearly trying not to cry, and I gave her a reassuring one-armed hug while cradling the baby with my other arm. The girl had fallen asleep, her small head resting against my chest. I went out of the room, taking a quick look down the hallway before tiptoeing down.

The household was still asleep, although they would be waking up soon, and I had to walk as carefully as I could. The baby in my arms slept soundly, thankfully.

When I reached the entrance, the sun was beginning to rise, streaking the winter sky with red and orange. The baby was beginning to stir in the cold air, and I wrapped her securely and laid her down on the doorstep, where there was no snow.

Still, the sudden change in temperature was making her start to wail, and I dashed back into the house and back into my room. Sakue was lying on the bed sleeping, the exhaustion having caught up to her. I met Kaeko’s gaze and nodded silently.

We sat tensely for a few minutes, me barely restraining myself from rushing out and grabbing the baby. What if she froze to death? But my fears were soon revealed to be unfounded, as a startled shout rang out through the mansion, accompanied by a baby’s loud cry. Sakue woke up immediately, and we had to restrain her from running out. When she had calmed down, I hurried out, to be greeted by a confused crowd of household servants. The doorman was clumsily holding the screaming baby, looking for a woman to hand it to, and I pushed my way in. “What’s going on?” I shouted over the baby’s wails and the surprised chatter.

“I found a baby by the doorstep,” said the doorman, thrusting it into my arms. I wrapped her securely in my arms, covering her shivering body with the sleeves of my kimono.

“Why would someone do that?” raged our laundry lady, Noriho, a pockmarked woman who, despite being born a peasant, had a strong sense of honor. “We are a noble family, not a town orphanage! Who thinks they can just lay a brat down on our doorstep and expect us to raise it?”

“What’s going on?” My mother’s sleepy voice rounded the hallway. We all froze as she appeared. She had already gotten dressed, although her long hair was disheveled, and she had an early-morning irritability about her that made everyone flinch back. “I said, what’s going on?” she said, her voice sharp. Emie trailed behind her, picking up the hem of her long kimono and trying to smooth her hair back. My mother elbowed her away and stared at me, her gaze furious.

I found my voice. “The doorman found this baby at the door.”

“A baby?” She looked the little thing wrapped in my arms, her keen gaze picking out details. “It looks newborn.” She stepped closer, reaching out a hand to touch it. “Yes, it was born very recently.”

“The mother must have wanted her child to have a better life,” I said, lifting her up so my mother could see her better. “It was very brave of her to leave it here. She must have thought we would not leave it to die, or give it to an orphanage.”

“A sadly mistaken thought.” She clucked her tongue. “Kakuei, get a horse and take it to the town to give to someone.”

“No!” I fell forward, forgetting my deference as a daughter in my panic of losing the baby. “Can’t we keep it? It’s been so long since we had a baby in the house! Wouldn’t you like another child to look after, to brighten up our days?”

I held the baby so tight she began to fuss again, and I adjusted her, looking pleadingly up at my mother.

She furrowed her brow, looking down at me with unreadable eyes. I continued, “I want a baby to look after. Wouldn’t it be good practice for raising a child of my own? When it grows up, it can be our servant or—“

“Such attachment.” My mother suddenly interrupted me, her voice cool. “One would almost think that this child was your own.”

A sudden chill fell over the crowd. I felt pairs of eyes on me, as if they were stripping me down to the bone, and I felt a wave of horror overcome me.

“N-No! I swear, it’s not my child! I have never been pregnant, you can examine me—“

“She should let her have the child,” scoffed Sakuro, one of our bodyguards, to Noriho. “It’s as if it’s a kitten she found and wanted to keep. She’s a young girl; it’s obvious that she would feel that way towards something small and cute.”

My mother silenced him with a glare, but his words seemed to have convinced her of something. “What you say has some truth to it,” she said. “It has been a long time since the birth of Danjirou. Perhaps some brightness and laughter in the house will brighten up these war-filled days.”

I was about to fall to the ground and embrace her legs when she suddenly said, her voice hardening, “This child is to be the responsibility of you and your maids only. I wish no part in its raising it.” She looked around at the lingering crowd. “Go on, get to work! Get this baby some milk to drink. What are you still here for?”

They dispersed, and I, immensely relieved, began to walk towards my room, only to stop when a hand clamped down on my shoulder.

I looked up to see my mother’s stormy, livid dark eyes glare down at me. “If I ever find out,” she said quietly, “That you—or a maid—gave birth to this child, then I will cast you out, as well as anybody implicated in this. I will drive you away from this house and make sure you will never show your face anywhere near this village again. Do you understand me?”

Her words were soft, but her voice had an undertone of anger, as if she was barely suppressing it. I wasn’t sure if her words were truth or not—somewhere in me, I never believed she would inflict that fate on her own daughter. But the thought of seeing Sakue driven out sent a shiver through me, and I swallowed thickly and nodded. “I understand, mother.”

She let me go and turned away, sweeping down the hall back to her room. I watched her go, my heart thumping painfully past, aware of the ache in my shoulder. Then the baby began to prattle, and I was off, heading for my room to give the baby to her awaiting mother.


	4. Chapter 4

“Misayo oba-san! Misayo oba-san!”

I smiled as the little girl came toddling down the steps, holding out a flower for me. “Flower! For you!” she smiled, holding it out. I took it from her and delicately put it in my hair. “Oh, Kaemi, thank you! It’s so beautiful!”

“What have I told you about calling Misayo-hime your oba-san?” Sakue scolded gently, coming down the steps after her. She swept her up in her arms, looking at me with flustered eyes. “I’m sorry, Misayo-hime. She didn’t mean to interrupt you while you were training.”

I shifted my naginata to my other hand, watching the blade flash in the sunlight. “I don’t mind. I was about to stop for the day anyway.”

Over the past three years, I had grown more skilled with the naginata. I was almost able to fight my mother to a standstill. And my niece, my dearest niece Kaemi, had grown as well, into an adorable bundle of energy with endless affection to her ‘oba-san’s. Although she was closest to her mother, she still had no idea it was she who had birthed her, calling her “Sakue oba-san”. I could tell it hurt her when Kaemi called her by that name, by the hurt in her eyes and the way she gnawed her lip.

“Kaemi! My sweet little cherry blossom, where are you? Mareko oba-san has a sweetie!” Mareko’s cheerful voice alerted Kaemi, who wriggled out of Sakue’s arms and dashed off towards the kitchen. Sakue looked after her, sighing. “She really needs to start calling you ‘Misayo-hime’. It will just cause problems for her if she refers to you so familiarly…”

“I know.” I agreed with her, but couldn’t find the heart to reprimand Kaemi. She was everyone’s favorite, a ray of sunshine on every cloudy day, her laughter bringing color to our lives.

“Messenger! There’s a messenger coming!” I heard the doorman’s excited call, and turned towards the entrance. “I’d better see what this is all about,” I said, leaning my naginata against the side of the house and walking towards the entrance. As I reached it, I could see a figure moving in the distance, slowly but surely. My heart leapt. Perhaps it was news from my father?

“Get some clothes and food ready for this man!” I shouted behind me as he approached, lifting an arm to greet us. As he met us at the door, I asked eagerly, “Does my father send tidings? Who sent you?”

He nodded, but his forehead was creased. Now that I saw him up close, I could tell that his clothes were ragged, and he stood with a slouch, as if he had been walking for a very long time.

“Lord Ashikage does indeed send tidings,” he said, managing a bow. “But, I’m afraid, not good ones.”

***

“The Oni forces have gotten closer.”

The words hung above our head, somewhere among the steam from the tea that rose toward the ceiling. I stared at him in surprise as my mother nearly stood up, her eyes wide and terrified. “But they withdrew! They withdrew from Jijunboro. They went up north!”

“They’ve returned,” said the messenger grimly, blowing on his tea to cool it. “And now they’re nearer than Jijunboro, and moving. Lord Ashikage told me to come as quickly as I could and relay the information. You have to prepare, to get your defenses up.”

“But they’re not coming directly towards us?” I said, ignoring the look my mother shot at me.

“No,” he said, looking indecisive, “But they certainly might. If they wanted to, they could be here in three days.”

My mother paled, and she clutched her teacup so hard her knuckles turned white. “Will my husband be returning?” she asked.

“He can’t. That’s why he sent me. He wants you to be ready in case they attack. He’s very worried, and so is his son.”

He was right to be worried. If they got through our defenses, if they reached our house… we would be ruined. All that we had would be gone. Our house destroyed, our possessions carried off… people killed. I thought of Sakue, or Kaeko, or sunny Mareko, lying on the ground bleeding from gashes in her chest, head lolled to the side, eyes open and staring at nothing. My breath came up short, and I had to thrust the image away from my mind.

“We will start building an escape passage,” my mother said to me, standing up. “We need to get weapons from the village, and artillery. Start stocking up food. Thank you,” she said to the man, who stood up hurriedly and bowed. “We will furnish you with fresh food and clothing. Your message is greatly appreciated.” She swept out of the room, beckoning to the man, and then it was only me, holding my lukewarm tea, alone in the room with only my fear and doubt for company.

***

“Misayo.”

I looked at my mother, expecting her to ask me how the weapon-gathering was going. Or if the construction of the escape passage had finished yet. She said none of those.

“I have decided to send you away.”

I flinched in surprise. Before I could say another word, she continued, “There is a nice family that I know of, who live in Hagarasaki. They have accepted you as a bride for their second son.”

The words floated in my head, meaningless. I didn’t begin to comprehend them for a few seconds, and then it all made sense.

“No!” I cried, bringing my fists down on the table. “Why? In this time of hardship, I should be here, helping my family! Hagarasaki is so far away, why would you suddenly…”

“It’s because we live in this time of hardship that I have decided to do this.” She steepled her fingers. “I want you to be safe if the Oni decide to attack us. And, Misayo... you are a woman now. You are eighteen years old. It’s time you got married.”

“But...” I felt tears well in my eyes. “I will hardly ever get to see you, or any of the household. I might never see you again!”

“Misayo,” she said calmly, “This is for your own good.”

“No, it’s not! I don’t want to marry someone I’ve never met! I don’t want to go somewhere and live out the rest of my life with strangers, having children with someone I don’t even love…”

“Love!” my mother hissed, and I jumped. “Do you know what love does, Misayo, hmm? Do you know where a marriage of love gets you? HERE!” she screamed the last word, and I recoiled. She was angry now, an unstable anger that I had never seen in her before.

“Let me tell you a story, daughter of mine. When I was an unmarried woman, like yourself, I lived in the royal court. I was the daughter of a highborn family, the Hakuseki. I had many prospects.” I had to muffle my gasp of astonishment. My mother, my sensible, hardworking mother who taught me the naginata, argued with the peasants for fair prices, worked on the chores when no one was around to do them. She was a highborn royal, one whose hair was decorated with golden ornaments, who wore richly embroidered kimonos, her face painted white and her lips stained red.

I supposed there were a few hints. Her high, queenly manner, her iron will and imperial bearing. The way she never, ever talked about her family, and the way whenever the royal courts were mentioned, she got tight-lipped and condescending towards them.

“I met a man. A lowly man, a mere soldier, just a step above from a peasant. An illegitimate child of a military commander. Like a foolish girl, I allowed myself to fall in love with him. I turned against my parents. I threw away everything, everything I had, for this man. This lowly soldier. And what do I have to show for it?”

Her voice was bitter and resentful. I had never heard her talk about my father this way before.

“A life spent in a rural wasteland, with no chance of ever seeing my family again. A drafty house, rude servants, and an illegitimate brat running around. A husband who is gone most of the time, and a son who is growing up without his mother. And a daughter who is about to make the same mistake I have.”

She leaned forward, until our foreheads were almost touching. “It is better to have a marriage without love, Misayo. You will not despair as I have, if your husband falls apart from you. You will not miss him if he dies. It is better to have others make choices for you, instead of being betrayed by your own choices.”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t say anything. I fixed my gaze on my trembling knees.

My mother leaned back, and I suddenly found my voice. “I understand, Mother. I will marry whom you choose for me. But please, don’t make me go now. I want to stay here until I’m sure everyone is safe.”

“No, Misayo. I’m not going to let you die. You are my only daughter.”

“Please, let me stay just until the threat is over. I will help set up our defenses, I will help take care of the house. I will make you proud if you let me stay here!”

“If you want to make me proud, Misayo,” my mother said, “Then give me grandchildren, and marry them well. Give them a better life. Take them to the royal court, and let them see the splendor. Do what’s best for all of us. I don’t want my bloodline to live in the country, spurned by the best, living in seclusion.”

And whatever I said, I could not make her change her mind.

***

“Misayo oba-san, why are you sad?”

Kaemi peered at my face, reaching for me with chubby fingers. I looked at her little unsure face, not knowing what to say.”

“Kaemi-chan, Misayo might be going away for some time.”

She looked at me, wide-eyed and frowning. “How long?”

“Maybe forever.”

Tears welled in her eyes. I quickly drew her to me and hugged her tightly, letting her muffle her sobs in my kimono. One thought ran through my head: _I might never see her again._

Little Kaemi, whom I had held, fed, rocked to sleep, whom I had played with, who saw me as a second mother. Whom I watched grow up, whom I helped raise.

And Sakue. My beloved older sister, always calm and strong. Who had kissed my scrapes when I was a young girl, had lifted me up and always supported me. Who had given birth to a life that I had caught with my own two hands.

Kaeko, quiet but perceptive, always seeming to know what I was thinking before I said it. Who said little, but understood much.

Mareko, a sunny, cheerful presence, teasing yet loving, always with a sweet tucked into the sleeve of her kimono to give to a crying face.

Emie, my poor, shy little sister, always trying her best to help everyone. Who had snuggled into my arms on cold nights, clinging to me like I was her mother.

And my own mother, my mother who stood tall in the face of despair, who had taught me to wield to naginata, who had taught me to be _strong_. A woman whose will was of iron, yet had a love in her that was as deep and strong as the ocean.

I might leave, and never see any of them again.

I looked blankly over the head of little crying Kaemi, one hand absently stroking her hair.

Please, please, don’t let me leave them behind. I wanted to protect them, to stay at the home I grew up in. I prayed fervently to the spirits to take pity on me, to grant me some of their mercy before I went to a strange place and bore the children of a man I had never even met. Please, let me stay just a little longer.


	5. Chapter 5

A scream.

A long, high scream, full of fear and panic. I woke up immediately, sweat starting on my forehead, my heart thudding so hard I could hear it in my ears. I looked around in panic, seeing only the darkness of my room.

I heard a whimper and immediately a small pair of arms wrapped around my waist. “Misayo-hime, what’s wrong?” said Emie, her voice small and trembling. I felt beside me for the comforting presence of Mareko. She always slept like a rock—nothing short of the house collapsing could wake her up.

More screams. Thudding. _Crashing_. I kicked the covers off and sprawled on the ground, my knees knocking hard on the wooden floor. The noise was greater, even coming from beyond the closed window. What just… what was…

The door burst open, and the wave of noise and heat nearly bowled me over. Noriho was standing in the doorway, panting, her body heaving. Her kimono was ripped, and her left sleeve was soaked with what looked like…

Blood…?

Before I could fully comprehend what was going on, she lunged forward and grabbed me by the arms, hauling me up and pulling me away. “Wait!” I cried, looking over at my bed, but Emie and Mareko, who it seemed had finally been woken up, were already scrambling out, their clothes in disarray, following us as we ran out the door.

The house was—the house was—

Fire and blood. When I tried to bring up my memories of it later, that was all I could remember. A confusing blaze of orange and red, splattered on the floor, licking up the walls. I think perhaps I stumbled on a dead body—still warm and twitching—but then, perhaps I was imagining it. As we ran out of a door and across the yard, I felt my head clear a bit, and I looked back.

There was smoke. Pouring out of the rafters, flames licking up the roof. High, terrified screams, sobs and calls _I knew those voices._

At that moment, it all sunk in. My house was burning. My friends were being slaughtered. The Oni had come.

As we rushed towards the escape passage, built near the back wall, I saw a lone figure sprint around the corner of the house, coming into eyesight. From the distance, I recognized the unruly dark hair and blue clothes of our gardener—Keichiro had always let his hair grow out long and never cared to comb it—before another figure came into sight, chasing him.

Hair as red as flames, as the flames which consumed my house. Two bone-white horns jutting out of his brow, curved like a goat’s. A long, bloodstained sword, held above his head.

I remember the sound. I remember it even now. The slicing of flesh, the cracking of bone, the thud as he hit the ground. Two more hacks, and Keichiro’s head was off. Keichiro, the calm figure who was always peacefully tending to his herbs and vegetables, who grew the best cabbages in the village, who was always talking about his wife who lived somewhere far away. His distorted face lying on the ground, separated from his body. That was the last thing I saw before I was out, beyond the walls of our home, running away from the secret passage into the forest. The sharp twigs cut my feet, and branches kept whipping my face. Still disoriented, I stumbled against Noriho, who gave my hand a yank and hissed, “Hurry up!” I heard the sobbing of Emie behind me, and only the patter of her and Mareko’s feet gave me any measure of comfort.

We fled. I don't know how long we ran for. My feet ached, my legs screamed in pain, but I would not stop running. Eventually, I heard the screams fade into the distance, saw the smoke fade away as we approached the village. I felt the comforting atmosphere of a meeting house sweep over me, and felt enormous relief when I saw my friends and mother.

Kaeko stumbled forward, uncharacteristically emotional as she cried out, “Misayo-hime!” I caught her and hugged her tight, separating from her only for Emie and Mareko to leap on her, sobbing with terror and relief. My mother was sitting on the ground, her naginata—stained with blood—lying beside her. Her forehead was gashed open, the blood running down her face, and I caught her and pressed my face into her shoulder, feeling my tears soak her kimono as the whole situation sunk in.

Many of the household had wounds, and looked as if they had just been torn from their beds—which, I reminded myself, they had. The doorman was the most heavily injured, lying on the ground while the local doctor checked him over. There was a gaping wound in his torso, and the doctor was pressing bandages over it—but judging by the pile of bloody bandages beside him, he had probably been doing it for a while. The doorman’s breaths were heavy, his eyelids flickering, and I knew with a sick realization that he was at death’s door.

I heard my mother get up. “I’ll get more bandages,” she murmured, staring at the doorman’s dying form. Her face was set and weary, and her eyes showed a yawning despair, a complete exhaustion of the human mind. But still she stood strong, squared her shoulders and left, her posture strong and upright, prepared to face the challenges our life would now bring. I felt more tears trickle down my cheeks, I tried to wipe them away.

I gazed around, hearing the moans of pain, the sobbing, and noticed that a number of our household was missing. I felt as if a great hole had opened inside me. Then I reassured myself; they would surely be here, they just hadn’t reached the meeting house yet—

And I was comforted, until I realized that Sakue wasn’t there.

I felt a sudden, horrifying jolt. I couldn’t move my feet. My mind was whirling, the sudden revelation making me lose all awareness of my body. Sakue. Kaemi. My beloved sister, my beloved niece—

I thought of Sakue, her body crouched protectively over her daughter. I thought of a sword slashing down, cutting through body as if it were paper. The blood soaking little Kaemi, clutching her mother and crying with fear. I thought of the sword, rising again, and coming down to sever her head in one terrible blow.

Before I knew quite what I was doing, I grabbed my mother’s naginata and began striding towards the door. “Misayo!” I heard Kaeko call, her voice strained and panicked, but I was out of the door, into the warm summer night, and heading into the forest. I heard calls come from behind me, the stumbling of feet, and my maidservants’ voices. The distant crying of Emie, Kaeko’s soft pleas for me to come back, Mareko’s yells as she stumbled out of the house and looked around for me. But I walked, and then I ran, unable to think of anything but the sight of Sakue slumped on the floor, covered in blood, and the terrified sobbing of Kaemi.

***

It had mostly quieted by the time I arrived. I heard the cracking of wooden beams collapsing, I heard distant cries. But the conflict was gone. There was no more fighting. It was an eerie quiet.

I stepped through the emergency passage and peered through the tree branch that shielded it. I saw the yard, just as I left it. Keichiro’s headless body still lay there, sprawled on the ground, its head lying in a trail of blood a few feet away.

The sight brought a surge of nausea, but I clutched my naginata and pushed through the branch. Save for the body, the yard was empty, and I crossed it, stepping over the wreckage of the door into the house. Most of the fires had been put out, leaving weak places and holes in the roof, but the frame of the house still stood strong.

I stood on my toes like a cat, moving carefully through the hallway. I peered into every room I passed to look for Sakue. They were looted, stripped of their valuables, everything that couldn’t be stolen smashed to bits. These rooms that I had grown up in, that I had dashed in and out of, as familiar to me as the back of my hand, were destroyed.

In one I saw the body of Yoboro, our cook, lying on his side, one arm thrown protectively across his face while the other clutched at his waist. He had been impaled through the pelvis. In another was Sakuro, his own sword thrust into his guts, having committed seppuku out of despair and his failure to defend the household. Another of the guards lay in the hallway, slumped against the wall with blood making a pool around him. I felt the cold blood soak my toes, and moved quickly, trying not to look back.

I could not find Sakue. I felt terror rise inside me, and tried desperately to suppress it. There was more of the house to search. She could just be hiding. But the anticipation of turning a corner and seeing her dead eyes staring into mine, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, was a constant fear.

I heard voices outside, the cries of a woman. Horror welling up in me, I quickly sidestepped and walked to a window, peering carefully out.

Not Sakue—it was our little serving girl, Suzume. She was quiet, not very easy to notice, always in the background to lay down the dishes and quickly spirit herself away. I had seen her carrying the food from the kitchen to the dining room, though, and she was quite deft at balancing the platters and bowls.

She lay in the yard, stripped of her clothes. Her kimono lay crumpled and tossed to the side. She was writhing and sobbing, her screams falling on the deaf ears of the man who crouched between her legs.

He held her knees on his shoulders, repeatedly forcing his waist down on hers. Her thighs were smeared with blood, and red claw marks covered her body. Other men were standing around her, clearly waiting their turn. The man finished and stood up, fixing his clothes, and the next one stepped forward to take his place. Suzume twisted around and tried to crawl away in a desperate attempt to escape, but the man mercilessly pulled her back by her leg, throwing his body over hers and beginning to move, and fresh screams began to echo around the yard.

I wanted desperately to run to her, to throw off the men who were violating her and impale them with my naginata, but there were too many of them, and they all had weapons. Each and every one had a slender sword tucked into their belt. If I intervened, I would be killed… or worse, have the same thing done to me that was being done to Suzume. I forced myself to move on, hearing the heartbreaking cries continue behind me.

I heard low voices up ahead. Men’s voices. I stiffened and readied my naginata, looking around for a place to hide, until the sliding door beside me shifted slightly, and I saw a terrified dark eye peep out.

“Sakue!” I whispered, pulling it open just enough for her to step out. I fell on her, hugging her with all my might, my fears that she would be dead or hurt washed away.

She held Kaemi in her arms, and the little girl was fast asleep. “Are you okay?” I said, stepping back to look them over. Sakue was mostly unharmed, if a little ruffled. Her kimono was in disarray and her hair was loose, but she had no wounds. Little Kaemi was safe as well, although there were tear marks drying on her cheeks.

“We’re fine,” Sakue said in a hushed voice. “When they attacked, we hid in the washing room under a tub. Kaemi was crying, but no one could hear her. She fell asleep about an hour ago.”

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” I said, the relief nearly making my legs buckle. “But we need to get out of here. It’s not safe, the Oni are still here—“

At that moment Kaemi’s little eyes fluttered open. Looking up, she spotted me and cried out “Misayo oba-san!”

I froze as the voices ahead stopped. They had heard her. Footsteps thudded on the floor as they came closer.

I pushed Sakue down the hall, saying, “Get to the escape passage and go to the village meeting house. You’ve got to hurry. Get yourself and Kaemi to safety!”

“No, Misayo I can’t leave you here—“

“Go!” I said in a louder voice. “I’ll hold them off—hurry!”

She paused where she was, swaying, clutching Kaemi, and our eyes met. It dawned on me that this might be the last time I ever saw her. In the ensuing fight, I could get killed, bleed out and die writhing on the floor, or else handed over to be violated repeatedly. But if that was what it took to save Sakue and Kaemi—

“I love you, big sister, and I love Kaemi. Tell my mother and all my maidservants I love them as well. Run.”

And as I heard her footsteps race down the hallway, I turned to face my enemies, naginata held at the ready. My mind was clear. This would be my last stand. I would face whatever fate was in store for me. But I would do so with the knowledge that Sakue and her daughter were able to escape. My two beloved people.

Please go, please live, please have a good life—

I love you.


	6. Chapter 6

I charged just as two men rounded the corner. One I recognized immediately as the red-haired Oni who had killed Keichiro. He was grasping for his sword. Feeling a rush of fury, I swung my naginata at his head, thrusting the blade with all my might. It hit his horn, cracking it from his skull and whipping his head back. A scream burst from his lips, so intense and filled with pain that my ears throbbed. He fell on the ground, clutching the space where his horn used to be, writhing in agony. I jerked my naginata back, preparing to give the killing blow, before the cold edge of a sword came to rest on the nape of my neck.

“Drop your weapon.”

The voice was filled with so much coldness I nearly shivered. For a moment I thought about defying him, stabbing down with my naginata and finishing him off anyway, but I knew that with the strength of Oni, my head would be off before the blade could reach his heart. So I dropped my naginata and slowly straightened up.

I turned my head to meet the gaze of the Oni holding the sword to my neck. His hair was an unnatural wintry-white, the color of snow and ice, and his eyes were like a cats’, yellow and slit-pupiled. He was sharply beautiful, but in an aloof, unearthly way. The horns jutting from his brow were sharp and curved, and with a single motion of his head he could have gored my throat. I swallowed, feeling cold sweat breaking out across my forehead.

The man on the ground sat up, still moaning in pain. He looked up at me, his eyes narrowing in hate as soon as they fell on my face. They also resembled the white-haired oni’s, being slit-pupiled and solid gold, but his were filled with hot, boiling fury. He bared his fangs as he scrambled up, drawing his sword.

“No, Nanazawa,” said the white-haired Oni immediately. “See how well this woman is dressed. She is obviously of high standing—she might be valuable. Sheathe your sword.” True, I was only wearing my sleeping kimono—but it was well-embroidered and made. His keen gaze had picked up on that immediately.

The red-haired Oni—Nanazawa—reluctantly put his sword away, still glaring at me. “She knocked my horn off,” he snarled, his hand going up to the space where his horn used to be.

“See the physician and make sure there’s no lasting damage,” advised the white-haired Oni. “You, girl, come with me.” He took the edge of the sword off my neck and headed towards my mother’s room. With one last nervous glance at Nanazawa, I followed him, feeling the red-haired Oni’s murderous gaze on my back.

***  
My mother’s room was completely untouched. Presumably, the white-haired Oni had wanted to use it as his headquarters. Already his clothes and a few weapons were arranged inside, and I gritted my teeth as he arranged himself opposite me behind the table. His posture was so worldly and arrogant, sitting in my mother’s room as if it had belonged to him all along. His sword was lying a few feet away, too far for me to reach, but just far enough so that he could grab it easily if I tried anything. It was well-made, with a carved handle, and looked dangerously sharp

“My name is Okaju Makaze, and I command this sect of the Oni army,” he informed me, folding his arms. “Tell me who you are.”

Ah. He was the commander. That explained a lot—his manner, his appropriation of my mother’s room for his own, his fancy sword. “I am Misayo-hime, daughter of Lady Okibu and Lord Ashikage,” I said, keeping my voice level. His eyes widened slightly. “Lord Ashikage?”

“Yes,” I said. “He’s fought Oni before. Do you know of him?”

“He is at war with my brothers-at-arms in the north,” he said. “He has become quite adept at killing Oni, it seems. You will be quite a valuable hostage.” He looked me over, his gaze sharp. I felt pinpricks erupt all over my skin, and had to restrain myself from rubbing my arms.

“My father is not a powerful commander, despite what you’ve heard of him,” I said, trying to act dismissive. “I am of no worth as a hostage.”

“Oh? Would you rather me give you to my men to play with, then?”

Roiling horror erupted within me, and I cried, “No! No, what I meant was—“

“Don’t say another word. Your attempts to manipulate me won’t work.” He tapped his claw on the table surface. With a start, I realized it wasn’t a claw—he simply had long fingernails. I offhandedly wondered how he wielded his sword with his nails grown out so long.

“When we return to our city, we’ll begin negotiating for your ransom,” he said, beginning to stand up. 

”Wait! When will that be?” I asked, starting to scramble up as well.

“Well, since I found you, we have no real need to go any farther. We’ve got a bargaining piece that help us win this war. We’ll withdraw from her immediately and start traveling back tomorrow.” He reached for his bundle of clothes and untied the hem cord from it.

“What are you doing?” I hissed as he grabbed my wrists, forcing them behind my back. Ignoring my struggles, he wound it tight, tying it securely. “Making sure you won’t leave,” he said. That done, he fastened another cord around my ankles and pushed me down to the ground.

“Wait!” I cried, trying to sit up as he walked to the door and slid it open, preparing to step out. “What if some of your men try to rape me? What if Nanazawa comes and tries to hurt me?”

“They won’t,” he said. “You will be safe in here. I will tell them not to touch you.”

And he went out, leaving me kneeling and breathing heavily, listening to his footsteps fade into the distance. A sick sense of nausea was starting to rise in my belly. I felt shivers overtake me, and I began struggling blindly, trying to free myself from my bindings. But my ministrations only served to tighten the knots, and soon I was in a worse position than when I started out.

I let myself fall sideways, my head thudding on the ground. Ignoring the pain spreading through my skull I began to sob, my eyes blurring with tears that streamed down my cheeks. 

***

The exertion of the day had caught up to me, and I must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing I knew a pair of hands was shaking me awake. My eyes shot open, and I began struggling, only to feel bolts of pain through my shoulders and legs. I felt heat explode across my face as someone slapped me, and my eyes finally focused and I saw who was kneeling in front of me.

As soon as I saw the blood-red hair my left foot shot out and thudded into Nanazawa’s midsection, knocking him down. He fell backwards and I shot up, my eyes watering as the pain in my limbs became more intense. The rope that I had been bound with was coiled in a corner of the room. I had been untied.

I looked down at myself, and was startled to see red marks around my wrists and ankles. Had I really struggled that hard? I rubbed my wrists, peering around the room. I had been asleep for a while, it seemed—the day was already darkening into night.

Okaju was sitting at the table, drinking tea and eating out of a clay bowl. He was patently ignoring us, even as Nanazawa sat up, furious.

“Don’t think you can hit me so easily, you filthy Oni,” I spat, feeling the anger awake inside of me as I remembered his decapitating Keichiro.

“How dare you… you little human bitch, I should cut off your feet for that,” he raged, reaching for his sword.

”Nanazawa,” I heard Okaju call. “There will be no hurting the hostage. Come over here and eat.”

I looked over, and saw two pairs of bowls and cups laid out. Suddenly feeling the hunger gnawing at my belly, I crawled over and grabbed the bowl, barely seizing my chopsticks before digging in.

Muttering angrily, Nanazawa came over as well, grabbing his mug of tea. I finished soon, and set my bowl down, taking my tea as well.

“For a high-born lady, your table manners leave something to be desired,” said Okaju, staring at me over the rim of his bowl. I tried to ignore his pointed jibe, staring around the room at the new objects strewn about. They were a few cooking utensils, swords and clothes—well-made, but not as good in quality as Okaju’s belongings. They must have belonged to Nanazawa—he didn’t seem as clean or proper as Okaju, whose weapons and clothes were still neatly folded and bundled.

I swigged the rest of my tea in a sudden bout of thirst, and set the cup down. I massaged my shoulders, trying to make the aching feeling go away.

“Nanazawa, what valuables have the men found?” I heard Okaju quietly ask. “We found a few weapons—mostly naginatas,” Nanazawa answered. “Some fine kimonos, little expensive trinkets, ornamental fans, an incense burner, some jewelry, and a woman. The men split them up among themselves.” I felt a shiver go through me as I heard Nanazawa offhandedly refer to Suzume as ‘a woman’. As if she was no more than an object.

“That’s fine. I want the kimonos, though, so save them for me. They’ll be valuable once we get back to the city.”

I almost didn’t hear Okaju’s reply as I felt boiling hate overwhelm me. “Those are my mother’s kimonos!” I cried out, bringing my fist down on the table. “You can’t just sell them as common goods! They’ve been passed down through my family for generations!”

Nanazawa laughed. “Look, the little girl thinks she has a say in this. Little girl, do you realize the position you’re in? You have no right to say what we can and can’t do.”

“He’s right,” said Okaju coolly. “Be mindful of your position, Misayo-hime. We defeated you, and now we are entitled to take what we please.”

I felt my hands clench into fists, and I gave him the fiercest glare I could muster. He blew me off with nary a frown, gathering up the bowls and cups and stepping out the door. I felt panic set in just as it slid closed, as I realized I was alone in a room with Nanazawa.

My fears proved to be unfounded in the two minutes Okaju was gone, though, as all the red-haired Oni did was stare moodily out of the window, his arms folded and legs crossed. Once Okaju came back, he lifted his eyebrows at the silence that prevailed throughout the room, but said nothing, unrolling a futon. 

Nanazawa looked away from the window and grabbed his futon. I blinked. “Are you going to bed already?”

“It’s been a long day,” said Okaju, taking off his sandals and sitting on the bed. I felt indignation erupt in me as he lay down in my mother’s bed, but knew there was nothing I could do about it.

“You’ll sleep there,” said Okaju, pointing to the futon between him and Nanazawa. The red-haired Oni had spread his futon in front of the door, probably to block my path if I decided to escape through the door. I glanced at the window, but Nanazawa was already striding over, shutting it firmly. 

Defeated, I crawled over to my futon, getting under the covers. It was uncomfortable—I wasn’t used to sleeping on a futon—but I could endure it. At least I still wasn’t tied up. The pain in my shoulders and legs had mostly faded, and I was able to stretch out.

I stared at the ceiling. It occurred to me that this might be the last time I would sleep in this house. Tomorrow I would be on the move, being taken back to their city… and I might never return. Something could happen while negotiating with my father. I could never know.

My only hope was that somehow, my mother was collecting forces, that she would launch a counterattack before we could leave. She had to be. The only problem was the lack of trained soldiers in the area. There were only villagers, and all of our guards were dead. I could only pray that somehow, some way, she could reach me.


	7. Chapter 7

I had slept most of the day, so it took a long time for me to doze off. It seemed as if I had only fallen asleep when Okaju was shaking me awake.

I yawned and covered my eyes against the bright light that shone through the room. For a dozy moment, I thought that Mareko was shaking me awake, that I had overslept, but then the events of the past day came back to me and a wave of sadness hit me. I rolled over and covered my face. My mother had not come. No one was saving me.

Okaju shook me again. “Misayo-hime, get up. We’re leaving soon.”

I reluctantly sat up and threw off my covers, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I felt something soft hit my lap, and Nanazawa’s voice say, “Put this on.”

I lifted the fabric, and realized with a start that it was man’s shirt and hakama. “What? Why?”

“It will be uncomfortable for you to travel while wearing your sleepwear,” said Okaju. The Oni all wore samurai clothing and armor, and I supposed they couldn’t spare any for me.

I nodded, standing up and unfolding the clothes. “Could you turn your backs for a minute?” I asked. Okaju turned, and Nanazawa hesitated, but turned as well.

I kept my eyes on their backs as I struggled into the unfamiliar clothing. It felt odd, wearing hakama—I had spent my whole life wearing women’s kimonos. When I was done, they turned around and observed me.

Nanazawa stifled a snigger, and Okaju came up and made a few adjustments. He grabbed my flowing lengths of hair and pinned it up in a bun. Then he nodded, satisfied. 

I followed him out of the room and outside, feeling strange in my new clothing. There were Oni men outside, getting ready to travel. The spotted us, and some waved to their commander.

“Hey, Minehiro!” a man called. “Is that the girl who knocked your horn off? She doesn’t look like much!”

Nanazawa snarled in rage and drew his sword, lunging. The flat of the blade struck him across the face, colliding with a crack. The man screamed and fell back, clutching his face. “Make another comment and I’ll cut both of your horns off,” hissed Nanazawa, sheathing his sword. Terrified, I hastened to catch up with Okaju as he made his way towards his horse. Then I saw something that made me stop dead in my tracks.

It was Suzume, tottering across the lawn. One of the men was holding her by the wrist, pulling her along. He kimono was in disarray, and her hair was loose. She moved in a listless fashion, one hand clenched between her legs. Her eyes were wide and unfocused, and utterly blank. I called her name, but she didn’t respond, and continued walking after the man.

“You have to get those men to let go of that girl!” I insisted to Okaju as he mounted me on his horse. He shook his head. “The men found her, and they will do as they will with her. They haven’t seen women in weeks.”

I flinched as one of the men grabbed Suzume and threw her across his horse, as if she were cargo. I averted my eyes as Okaju nudged his horse into a trot, and tried to keep my gaze fixed on the road in front of me.

***

I had never ridden for so long before. We had breaks once every few hours to eat or drink, but by the time we dismounted for the night I was exhausted and limping. 

I was given a bowl of rice gruel to eat, which I wolfed down. We were sleeping a bit far away from the rest of the men, which I greatly appreciated. As Okaju and Nanazawa spread out their futons, I heard low cries begin to echo from the men’s corner of camp. Forcing myself not to look in their direction, I stared around at the surrounding forest.

It was dark and thick, the pine needles crunching under my feet as I moved. The sky was tinged dark blue as the sun dipped below the horizon. I peered into the underbrush, but the forest was so thick I could only see a few feet. 

“Misayo-hime, come over here,” I heard Okaju call softly. I turned around and saw that they had laid their futons side by side, with a gap in the middle for me to sleep in.

“Are you really expecting me to sleep like that?”

“You don’t really have a choice, do you? We can’t have you running away in the night.”

“I’m not sleeping with you. I’m a young woman and you’ll spoil me for marriage!”

“Stop complaining. At least we’re not tying you up.” Okaju looked apathetic, but I didn’t like the look on Nanazawa’s face. I was trembling. His eyes were filled with malevolency, as if he couldn’t wait until I got into bed with him so he could take his revenge on me. With a sick feeling, I realized that if I ever got back to my family I could never marry, not after being in a situation like this.

I stepped in between them, lying down silently. I felt their warmth of both sides, like when I slept with my maids back when I was at home, except accompanied by a chilly and foreboding feeling. I squirmed uncomfortably as the camp finally put out the fire. I could feel their hard male bodies on either side of me, a strange and uncomfortable feeling.

My heart was thumping as Nanazawa shifted closer. I could feel his breath on the top of my head. Okaju was still awake, and turned so that he faced me. In an effort to escape Nanazawa, I pressed closer to Okaju, thinking that at least his proximity would protect me from Nanazawa. Okaju shifted his arms, laying them loosely over my sides. He seemed half-asleep already, breathing deeply. I knew that I shouldn’t be actively trying to get close to any male, but anything was preferable to being up against Nanazawa. 

As I drifted off to sleep, I could hear the deep breaths of the men beside me, their bodies closer to mine than any man’s had been in my entire lifetime. I shivered despite my warmth, knowing that my prospects were terrifying, even if I were taken back to the city. I fell asleep uneasily, wrapped in the cold arms of Okaju and with Nanazawa right behind me.

***

When I awoke I wasn’t quite sure what I was feeling. A hard rod was pressing against my rear, and I vaguely wondered if I had rolled over onto a stick before Nanazawa drew me closer, panting in my ear.

I awoke immediately when he began to move, shifting so that the hard, hot thing was directly between my legs. At that point I was confused, wondering what was happening, before the murmurings and gossip of my maids came back to me and I knew what this was.

“Na—“ I tried to cry out, but Nanazawa pressed his hand against my mouth, muffling my cries. The erection slid deeper, until my legs were halfway parted and his crotch was firmly pressed against mine. Cold sweat broke out across my forehead, but it was accompanied by a certain terrified excitement, especially when he began to move.

His breaths were loud and short, interspersed with the occasional moan. He grabbed my leg with one hand, prying it open so he could shove the wedge further. I felt it slide between my thighs. Even separated by a thick layer of cloth, I could feel its heat, rubbing against me. The disturbing feelings it awoke in me sent me into a frenzy of fear, and I reached out to grab Okaju’s shoulder, shaking him.

He murmured, stirring, and Nanazawa pulled away. With relief, I felt the hard thing withdraw from between my thighs, and I pressed my legs together, shifting closer to Okaju. The presence of Nanazawa behind me was a constant nightmare, and with the new advent of his recent actions, scared me to no end. If he continued with this, I would be in more danger. 

***

The next morning my fear had turned to anger, and when we were getting ready to travel again, I stalked up to him as he was rolling up his futon.

I kicked him in the back as hard as I could, sending him sprawling on the ground. As he tried to regain his footing, I snarled, “If you ever do something like that to me again, I’ll saw your other horn off. Don’t think I won’t.”

He sat up, his eyes blazing with fury. “How dare you say something like that to me! You impudent human, there’s no way you would ever be able to hurt me again. Okaju won’t protect you forever. And when he finally—“

“Misayo-hime, come over here,” I heard Okaju call. With one last glare at Nanazawa, I ran over to Okaju, who was already mounted on his horse. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me up, and we were off.

The scenery gradually changed as we retreated. The forests became thicker, the wilderness more wild. We came upon abandoned shrines, overgrown with vines and vegetation. We passed lakes deep and silent, the surfaces like glass, not marred by a single ripple. The cobbled paths were cracked, the stones separating and covered in moss. This was a place that the forest was gradually reclaiming for itself. 

The Oni seemed right at home, joking and laughing the whole way. Okaju, however, didn’t crack a grin, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the path in front of him. In fact, he rarely interacted with his men—Nanazawa did most of that. I still had no hint as to their relationship. Nanazawa seemed subordinate to him, and while the men liked to harass him, they left Okaju alone. Except when it came to give orders, the white-haired Oni seemed completely removed from them. Curious, I looked up at Okaju. He noticed, and his eyes flicked briefly from the path to fix on mine. “What is it?”

“I was just wondering… what is Nanazawa’s position here?”

He flicked the reins, hurrying his horse. “He is my second-in-command.”

“Really?” I was surprised. I never would have guessed, by the way the men treated him.

“I know he doesn’t get much respect. It’s because of his family position.”

“What’s—“

“Okaju-sama! Can we stop for a few hours? We’ve been riding long enough!” I heard Nanazawa call, and Okaju slowed his horse to a halt. “The horses are getting tired,” said Nanazawa, riding up. “And the men were homesick for this kind of scenery. They want to stretch their legs a bit.”

Okaju thought for a moment, his mouth twisted, then finally nodded. Most of our breaks had just been for half an hour or so—but the scenery was nice, the day was pleasant, and we had been riding since this morning without a rest. We dismounted, and I stretched, appreciating being able to stretch my limbs. I smelled a fire being started—it seemed like the men were having lunch. I walked over to a tree and sat down against it, closing my eyes and leaning against the bark. I had just begun to relax when a shouting made my eyes snap open.

Nanazawa was standing opposite a man, their swords drawn. His fangs were bared, and his stance made it clear that he was about to attack. The other man I recognized as the one who had insulted Nanazawa back when we were leaving my house.

“If you call me a one-horn one more time I’ll cut your hands off,” spat Nanazawa. The other man chuckled. “You know Okaju wouldn’t let you. You’re just a lackey. A one-horned lackey! You don’t deserve to be Okaju’s second-in-command.”

“You bastard—“

“Bastard? Wouldn’t that apply to you more than it would me?” 

The men were laughing, egging them on. I sighed, feeling, despite myself, a little amused. Nanazawa really didn’t get any respect. 

Nanazawa suddenly lunged, swinging his sword down. It was so quick I jumped in surprise. There was a metallic clang as sword met sword, and they were fighting, drawing their blades against each other.

I looked around for Okaju, but he was nowhere in sight. Perhaps he was tending to his horse. The men were excited and jeering. They must have felt rowdy without getting to fight anyone in the past few days. The two Oni stepped around each other, their swords glinting in the sunlight as they fought.

It was fascinating to see two warriors battle. They stepped with practiced ease, blocking and parrying and thrusting their weapons. Nanazawa was clearly angered, swinging his sword down with all his might, but the other was fending him off, grinning cockily. 

“That the best you can do, one-horn?” yelled another man. Nanazawa growled, a harsh, beastly noise that made me shiver. He suddenly lashed out with a foot, catching the other man in his midriff. A gasp went up around the crowd—this was dirty play. The other man stumbled, and Nanazawa slashed at him, cutting his shoulder open in a gush of blood.  
The man fell to his knees, and the red-haired Oni kicked him down until he was standing over his prone body.

He brought the sword above his head and cut down.


	8. Chapter 8

An agonizing scream tore out of the other man as his hand was sheared off. It had been one slice, just one, and his hand had been separated from his arm. As he flailed, Nanazawa brought the sword over his head again and severed his other hand.

Blood sprayed the grass, staining the fresh green dark red. I was frozen where I was, my back pressed against the tree. The men were cheering wildly, gathering around the sobbing man and Nanazawa. Thankfully, none of them were looking at me. I felt a bile rise to my throat as I remembered Nanazawa decapitating Keichiro, the spout of blood that had risen from his jagged neck. The red-haired Oni’s expression was of wild joy, his eyes blazing with triumph.

“What’s going on?”

As soon as I heard the voice, I almost collapsed with relief. Okaju was striding in, pushing the men aside until he stood before Nanazawa.

The men were silent as Okaju observed the scene, the man writhing in pain on the ground, and Nanazawa with his bloody sword.

“What,” the white-haired Oni said quietly, “happened?”

His voice was ice-cold with barely concealed rage. Nanazawa sheathed his sword. “Yaiki insulted me one too many times,” he growled. “He has been a thorn in our side from day one. He’s been fostering resentment—“

“This is too far, Nanazawa,” Okaju cut in. “We do not mutilate our own men. You should have dealt with him without fighting. Where’s the physician? Get him!”

The men dispersed as Okaju bent down, examining the stumps at the ends of the man’s arms. They were still spurting blood, and Okaju tore a strip off of his own clothes, pressing it against the wounds. The cloth was soaked through quickly, and the man whimpered with pain.

In all the commotion, I had been completely forgotten. I stood up shakily and slid behind the tree until I was shielded from the campsite. I pressed the side of my face against the bark, trying to slow my breathing.

For a moment I entertained the idea of trying to run. But the forest was vast, and I had no idea where I was. Most likely I would get lost and starve to death, or come upon roaming bandits and—no, I couldn’t escape. That would be useless.

I heard a rustling in the bushes opposite me. A muzzle poked out, followed by a red head and perked ears. A fox. Its eyes were fixed beyond me on the campsite. It must have been attracted to the smell of blood.

“Go on, shoo,” I whispered shakily. The fox seemed to notice me, and cocked its head. Then it was gone, only the soft rustling of leaves heralding its departure. I sunk down onto the ground, my heart thumping fast.

“Misayo-hime!” I heard Okaju call, and I swallowed and emerged from behind the tree. The man on the ground was still there, shivering and moaning. Another man was kneeling beside him, holding a roll of bandages.

“I want you to hold his arms down,” said Okaju. I blinked, wondering why he had asked me, but did as he said, crouching over the man and seizing a forearm with each hand. I could feel the muscles contracting and spasming beneath my fingers, and I pressed down gently, immobilizing them but not to the point of injuring him more.

The physician wrapped the bandages over the stumps, blood quickly blossoming on the white cloth. The man was still moaning in pain, but his voice was weak. His shoulder was still caked with blood, and the physician paused to press a wad of bandages on it.

“Will he survive?” I asked Okaju, who was beside me, pinning down his body so he wouldn’t struggle. “I don’t know,” he replied, his eyes fixed on the man’s face, which was contorted in agony. “Maybe he doesn’t even want to. Without hands, he cannot hold a sword. Without hands, he can’t do anything but be reminded of his humiliation.”

The physician finished wrapping the bandages and stood up. “I’ll make some painkillers,” he said, walking away. I slid off of the man and sat down, listening to his heavy breathing.

“Why did you want me to help?” I asked Okaju. He sat down as well, lifting his weight off the man. “If I had asked a man to hold his arms down, he would have hurt him, accidentally or no,” he answered. “You saw them, they were all cheering. They would have been useless.”

I nodded, understanding. I looked up at the sun. It had already been a while, but it was still high in the sky.

The physician came back with a hot cup of tea. Since the man couldn’t hold it, I lifted the cup to his lips and made him take a drink. He was still half-conscious, and the liquid dripped down his chin as he spluttered.

He fell asleep—or unconscious— soon after, and I retreated to sit against my tree. I nervously surveyed the campsite. Nanazawa was sitting by the fire, eating out of a bowl. He caught my eye, and I quickly looked away. His recent outburst had cemented a fear in me, a realization that he was indeed more brutal that I had expected. I supposed I should have guessed when he cut off Keichiro’s head, but that he would willingly and eagerly mutilate one of his own men…

I felt a nudge on my shoulder, and looked to the side to see Okaju holding out a bowl of rice. I accepted it and he moved away, probably having other matters to attend to. I looked down at the bowl of rice, the sight of blood splattering the ground still fresh in my mind. I saw a smudge of dried blood on my wrist, and rubbed it off in a panic. I could still see the man, writhing on the ground, waving his stumps of arms. I felt my gorge rise, and quickly set my bowl aside. I couldn’t eat, not just after having witnessed something like that.

I heard a rustle behind me, and I peeked around the tree. The fox was sitting there, tail wrapped around its body. It was looking at me, amber eyes boring deep into mine.

“You’re still here, huh?” I whispered, and it blinked, still staring at me. I grabbed my bowl and held it out. It approached cautiously, sniffing at it, then dipped its muzzle in and began to eat. I felt a little better. I had never been this close to a fox before. It was always good to be kind to foxes, anyway, because they might repay you. Foxes were magical, after all.

It finished, and taking one last sniff, retreated. As the tip of its bushy tail disappeared into the undergrowth, I leaned back, suddenly feeling an uncomfortable fullness in my bladder.

Okaju’s voice startled me. “We’re going to leave soon, Misayo-hime.”

“Hmm?” I looked up. “But I need to relieve myself.”

“Fine.” He pointed into the forest. “You have five minutes.”

Gritting my teeth and glaring at him, I tromped into the bushes, pushing the brambles and tree branches out of my way. The sounds of the camp grew more distant behind me as I searched for a good place, and I was frequently stumbling over fallen branches and untangling my clothing from the bushes. I knew the Oni had spread out through the forest a bit, and I did not want anyone to see me. As I searched, I became aware of a smell seeping into my nostrils. It was a rotten, dark scent that reminded me of menstrual blood. Thick and rank, it made me gag.

At that moment I stumbled into a small clearing, and the smell increased tenfold. Wrinkling my eyes, I searched around for what might be making that terrible stench, until my gaze rested on something slumped on the ground.

It took a few moments for me to realize what I was looking at. It was Suzume. She was lying on her side, one arm trapped beneath her, the other splayed out to her side. There was a deep, ugly gash in the center of her forehead, and blood—dark, congealed blood—covered her face, so that I could barely recognize her. It covered her eyes, her nose, dripped down her chin. But her eyes were open. And they were staring at me.

Flies covered her face, crawling over her glazed eyes, the dried blood on her face. They buzzed and swarmed, the noise deafening and constant. Immediately, I felt my body unfreeze and I ran over to her, swatting the flies away, shaking her. “Suzume! Wake up! It’s me! What happened? Are you…”

I stopped when I realized she wasn’t getting up. Now that I was right beside her, I could smell the stench, the ripe smell wafting right into my nose. I covered my mouth and nose, sobbing soundlessly. I felt sudden, intense nausea and crawled to the side, vomiting over the roots of a tree. I hadn’t had much to eat that day, so most of what I disgorged was stomach acid, the vile smell making me heave again. Tears dripped my face as I wailed, returning to Suzume’s side. I pressed my face into her chest and sobbed, feeling waves of despair washing over me. She was gone. Suzume was gone. Our little serving girl, quiet and withdrawn, a shadow at the back of our dining room. She was dead. My entire body shook with sobs as I clutched her close, wishing that I could do something, _anything_.

I heard a crackling to my side, and a familiar voice. “Hey, human girl! You’ve been gone for far too long! Don’t think you can esca—“

He stopped abruptly. I could feel his presence behind me, frozen in shock. “What—what—“

I didn’t answer, continuing to cry into Suzume’s kimono. I heard cracking behind me as Nanazawa began to run back, yelling. “Okaju-sama! Come over here quickly!”

Suzume was cold, so cold. Even beneath the layers of her kimono I couldn’t feel her body warmth. She was gone, truly gone. I felt my tears soaking into the fabric as I cried, hugging her to me.

“What’s going on?” Okaju’s voice broke into my consciousness. I felt a hand on my shoulder, wrenching me back. I gasped, tears still running down my cheeks as I saw the scene again for a second time.

“Look at the tree,” said Nanazawa, pointing to the large tree that I had vomited onto. There was a patch of blood and a dent in the bark at roughly my eye level. “She must have run into it on purpose.”

The new revelation sent a fresh wave of sobbing, and I muffled my face with my sleeve, not wishing to show either of the men my crying face. Okaju pulled me up and sent me stumbling towards Nanazawa. “Take her back to camp,” he said. Nanazawa grabbed my wrist and pulled me back along the path. I held back, lunging again for Suzume, but he yanked me forward, and soon I was in the campsite, seated on the horse in a daze. A few minutes later Okaju emerged from the forest, his face impassive.

I was vaguely aware of words being exchanged, perhaps a few angry shouts, but it was all out of focus, as if it were happening underwater. I heard, I saw, but I did so distantly.

We were riding, finally. I could feel the jarring of the horse’s movements, I could see the narrow path ahead, but all I could remember was the _smell_ , the sight of her prone form, the blood that disfigured her face.

A sudden, intense self-loathing struck me. I could have prevented her death. I had power—I was a valuable hostage. I could have insisted she not be touched, I could have clung onto her and refused to let her be taken away from me. I should have fought with all my heart and soul to prevent her from suffering her fate. I could have at least kept an eye on her. I could have done it had I been braver.

Instead, my cowardice and unwillingness to press the matter had driven her to suicide. My foolish ignoring of her plight had taken away her life.

I could have done something. I could have _done_ something.

Hatred, of both me and the Oni, swam in my mind. I clenched my fists so hard that my nails left purple crescent-shaped marks on my palms. These sons of bitches who had done this to her, and this cowardly woman who didn’t speak up. The fury broiled within me, even as I sat motionless on the horse.


	9. Chapter 9

We stopped for the night beside a lake, where the men could catch fish and lead their horses to drink. I dismounted as the camp was getting ready, stumbling a bit. Riding so long on a horse made my legs numb.

I looked out at the lake, its sparkling surface lit by the setting sun. I longed to bathe, but I wouldn’t dare with all these men around. I had noticed, with a gradual sense of horror, the looks the men had been giving me, hot, lustful looks that made me tremble. 

Sticking close to Okaju, I followed him to the new campsite to where my futon was spread out. The men were still up and about, eating, arguing, tending to their horses. My sleeping place was, as usual, set up a little away from the campsite. I lay down, feeling the exhaustion of the day seep into me. I could still see Suzume in my mind’s eye, the blood streaming down her face, her blank, glazed eyes covered with flies. Tears of grief leaked out of the corners of my eyes, and I huddled where I was, sobbing where no one could see me.

At some point I fell asleep. When I was awoke suddenly it was night, and the fire was going. I could hear the uproarious conversation of the men, their laughter and jokes, and I sat up, rubbing my eyes. My throat was sore and parched. I needed water. I looked around, and Okaju was near the fire talking to a man. Deciding that it would do more harm than good to interrupt him, I slid out of the futon and made my way towards the lake.

Now that it was night, the moonlight sparkled off the water. The entire forest was dark, save for the fading firelight behind me, giving me an eerie feeling. I felt as if I were in an entirely different world. I had never been alone in such a vast place before-- in all my trips out of the household, I had been accompanied by a chaperone. But it was only me here, me and the wilderness. I felt the night breeze on my face, smelled the scents of night, heard the crying of animals echo through the forest. For a moment I just stood there, letting the sensations wash over me.

Finally I snapped out of my stupor, and headed toward the lake. I saw my reflection in its surface, and cringed. My normally neat, straight black hair was messy, and my face was marred by tracks of tears and dried mucus. My eyes were swollen from all the crying.  
I gingerly scooped some water out of the lake with my hands, bringing it to my face, First I washed the dried tears and snot off of my face, then quenched my thirst. I didn’t notice the presence behind me until it spoke up.

“Human girl.”

I froze. The hard voice was one I knew well. Nanazawa.

I stood up and whipped around, meeting his gaze. His golden eyes were narrowed, staring at me with a disturbing intensity.

“What do you want?” I hissed, moving back. The heels of my feet met cold water, and I tried not to shiver.

“The men are talking about you.” His voice was uncharacteristically quiet, with a strange quality to it that made the hair on the back of my neck raise.

‘They’re getting cantankerous, you know. Now that they don’t have a woman anymore, they’re starting to look at you. They’re propositioning Okaju-sama to let them use you.”

The words sent bile rising to my throat. I recoiled, pinpricks erupting all over my body at the thought of them doing to me what they did to Suzume.

Nanazawa took a step closer. “You defeated me, human girl. You knocked my horn off. I would never let a mere commoner have his way with you. You know that, right?”

I didn’t understand his words. I stared at him, perplexed. “What do you…”

His arms suddenly shot out, and he pulled me against him. His hot mouth covered mine. I bit down as hard as I could, and immediately tasted blood.

He yanked his head away, and his voice came in a hiss in my ear. “Foolish girl. You won’t fight me forever. When we get back to the city, I’m going to marry you. You’ll lie in my bed for the rest of your days, and bear my children.”

The words sent a tremor of shock through me, and for a moment, I just lay in his grip, disbelieving. Then my mind caught up, and I began struggling with more intensity. But his arms clamped down on mine, and I was rendered helpless by his superior strength.

“Yes, you’ll learn,” he breathed in my ear. “You’ll learn that I am the only man in your life. You’ll give me many children, many strong children.” His hand slipped to my belly. “Such a strong woman. Your children will be bring me much pride.”

I gave a muffled scream, and thrust at him with my arms. I grabbed his skin and pinched it, and all that I received was a depreciating laugh. “You foolish human, you think you can fight me? I am an Oni!” He laughed then, wild and overjoyed, and I with a cold chill, I knew what he said was right.

Oni were stronger than humans. I had heard my father tell me so, had seen it with my own eyes. Their physical strength easily overpowered humans, and soon I was experiencing this for myself, as he had me pinned down on the ground. One hand covered my mouth, and the other explored my body, tugging, pinching, stroking.

My clothes were soon off, floating in the water and laying crumpled on the lakeside. I could still see the moon, shining as if the Moon God himself were watching over me. I felt humiliation and grief as I imagined his sharp eyes, seeing my pathetic naked body being violated by a man.

“Misayo,” he gasped, the first time he had ever uttered my name. “Spread your legs. Spread them!”

I kept them locked, twisting my knees around each other, but he wrenched them open, screwing his body between my thighs. I felt his hardness press against me. Panicked, I struggled even more.

He shifted his clothing, and suddenly something hot and raw was pressed against my opening. I could feel the pulsing heat, and felt a wave of terror overcome me. I was going to be raped. I was going to be defiled by something that wasn’t human. I still struggled futilely, even as he shifted his weight, completely pinning me down.

He pressed against my clitoris, rubbing gently with the head of his member. I felt a tremor run through me, a hot and sweet feeling that made heat pool between my legs. It was an unfamiliar sensation, my entire body tightening, anticipating him.  
“You like it when I play with your clit? Haha, your skin is all flushed.”

To my embarrassment, he was right. I felt the heat on my cheeks, down to my collarbone, and he laughed softly.

“You’ll like this even better.”

I felt the mass of heat move from my clitoris, downward. Then suddenly, the swollen head was entering me, a sharp flare of pain making me arch my back. He thrust his hips forward, the slime that had been secreted making the move smoother. I felt my entrance stretch painfully wide as it tried to accept the intruder.

He thrust forward, the head of his member gouging the walls of my vagina. He licked my cheek and I felt his breath on my face, coming in excited pants. He was breathing just like a dog. Yes, that’s what he was. Nothing more than a dog that was mounting me. He still moved, drawing himself out an inch and slamming himself back in. Each time he did it, I felt a sharp pang of pain. But no matter how much I struggled and kicked, he wouldn’t move. Was this… was this how Suzume had felt, being violated? The sight of her screaming, pinned down on the ground, flashed through my mind. Oh Suzume.

I felt tears involuntarily fill my eyes. How would I ever be able to go home like this? My life would be ruined when they found out that I had been raped by an Oni. I could almost feel the gazes of my mother and my household on me, disappointed and revolted. I knew what happened to noble women who lost their virginity before marriage. I don’t think my family would turn me out on the streets, but I would never be able to marry. My entire family’s reputation would be ruined. My mother’s dreams of finally regaining our place in the court would be rendered useless. 

“You’re not struggling anymore.” Nanazawa’s voice brought me sharply back to reality. “Could you be accepting me? It would be better for you if you did.” He gave a breathy laugh.

Then he slid all the way in, our pubic hair rubbing against each other as he fully sheathed himself inside me. 

I could feel it, I could feel it, the hot, throbbing thing that thrust and pressed my insides. It was painful, both physically and mentally, to have myself be violated before the whole world. He lashed his waist, his breaths becoming more excited. “Misayo, you’re so hot and… tight… I’m going to…” He moved faster, and I gritted my teeth as the pain intensified. He reached deep inside me, into places that I never knew existed, and then his back arched like a whip. With a thrill of horror, I suddenly realized what was happening, and I kicked out with my knee as hard as I could, catching him in the waist. My arms were still pinned down, but I still dug my fingernails into his wrists as hard as I could.

I would have pleaded, but he was still covering my mouth, so all I could do was scream in my throat. But his entire body shuddered, and I felt something hot spread through my lower abdomen. He slowly pulled out, and I felt a warm, sticky liquid drip down my thighs. He got off me and I sat up slowly, looking down at myself.

Blood and semen, and a mucusy substance which I recognized as my vaginal secretions stained the inside of my thighs. My insides still throbbed in pain, and the place between my legs stung whenever I moved my leg. 

“You’re probably going to get pregnant now,” said Nanazawa, his tone mocking and self-congratulatory. “Now you won’t be able to go home. I don’t care what Okaju says. You’re going to spend the rest of your life paying for knocking my horn off.”

Was that what this was? A long-term revenge scheme? Was I really going to be forced to live with this man for the rest of my life? 

Would I have to lie with him every night, and nurse his children, and stay with him until I died? Would I never be able to see my family again? Sakue, Mareko, Kaeko, little Kaemi… would they eventually forget about me?

This man was trying to make this happen. This man was trying to away my future as a woman.

I lunged out suddenly, grabbing him by the front of his clothes, and toppled him sideways. He hit the water with a splash, struggling, and I threw myself on top of him, holding him down by his neck. My mind was perfectly clear. I knew what he wanted to do to me was something I could never permit. All the anger I had felt at him over the next few days erupted inside me as I remembered the sword flashing down, severing my gardener’s head. I remembered the sight of the man lying on the ground screaming, his hands cut off. I remembered his hot breath on the top of my head as he thrust against me while I was sleeping. 

I was going to kill him. And I would run. I didn’t care that I was in the middle of a deep forest, with no idea where I was. I didn’t care if there were bears and wolves in the woods. I needed to get out of here. I needed to escape the Oni, and the fate that was in store for me.

Nanazawa was fighting me, but without oxygen, his struggles were becoming weaker. I was sitting on top of him, holding his head underwater. The water slowed his movements, made it hard to shove me off. I dug my feet into the underwater mud, keeping my balance on top of him as his writhing started to still.

A hand gripped my neck, pulling me off. I hit the lakeside, rolling briefly, and struggled up. In the moonlight, I saw a pale figure pulling Nanazawa out of the water, throwing him down on the ground.

More and more people were beginning to mill into the lakeside. I could hear their muttering, and I hurriedly pulled my shirt from the ground, covering my body. Nanazawa was beginning to breathe, his hoarse cough echoing around the lake. Okaju looked up, and his gaze fell on me.

“What happened here?” His voice was sharp. I clutched the shirt closer to my body as his sharp eyes narrowed. “Nanazawa raped me,” I said loudly. 

He started, surprised. “What?” His voice wasn’t sharp anymore. His tone was of disbelief. With three strides, he crossed the distance between us and grabbed my leg. Yanking it apart, he thrust a hand between my legs. Shocked, I tried to kick out, but he fended me off, bringing a hand up to the moonlight.

It was stained with semen and blood. His gaze hardening once again, he strode back to Nanazawa. The red-haired Oni was sitting up, still panting and coughing. Okaju kicked out, catching him around the midriff and making him collapse on the ground. With the same leg, he stomped on his crotch, and Nanazawa's wail of agony made most of the surrounding men flinch.

“I told you not to touch her,” he hissed, his usually impassive voice filled with anger. “How are we supposed to ransom her back now?”

“My family will take me defiled or not!” I yelled, terrified of what could be in store for me if they thought I was now useless. He spared me a glance, then turned back to Nanazawa.

“You have defied my orders long enough, Nanazawa. When we get back to the city, I’ll make sure everyone knows of this.”

He grabbed my hakama out of the lake and threw it on me. As I wrestled myself into the soggy pants, he added, “And you can sleep with the men now. You are no longer my second-in-command.”

A murmur rose among the men as Nanazawa stared at him in shock. “No… you can’t…”

Okaju turned away from him, ignoring his stutters of disbelief. He grabbed me by the arm and tugged me away. The Oni parted silently to let us pass.

We ended up back at the campsite, and Okaju pushed me towards my futon. I lay down on it, my head numb. The pain between my legs was still there, sharp and throbbing. I felt tears trickle out of the corners of my eyes. More than anything I wished Sakue were here. Gentle Sakue would wipe away my tears, hug me and soothe me. I missed her with an aching intensity. I wondered how she was doing. I’m sure she made her way back to the rest of the household in the village. Now that they had no home, where would they go? 

I shut my eyes tight. A wave of despair washed over me. What was going to happen to us? If… if I was ever returned, how were we going to survive? Our home was gone, I had no value anymore as a marriage candidate. We could live in the village, certainly, but they had their own problems to take care of, they couldn’t support an entire noble household. 

Perhaps they had left. Perhaps they thought of me as a lost hope. Perhaps they were in the capital city already, reunited with my father. They would forever remember me only as the daughter who was stolen by the Oni. Kaemi would grow up and marry, and forget her Oba-san. Sakue, Mareko, Kaeko, Emie, they would depart and find husbands, no longer having a noble daughter to be maidservants to. My family would be fractured, the ones who were not already dead leaving in search of new work. The people I had stayed with for years, talked with, fought with, loved, who were as familiar to me as the back of my own hand, would be gone.

I closed my eyes and pretended I was back home, sleeping in my bed with Sakue or Mareko, my house as it had always been. I would be woken up, probably by Kaemi bouncing on my bed, and eat breakfast with my family, Suzume balancing the dishes in her skilled hands, Emie fruitlessly fussing with my mother’s hair as she sat at the table. I would leave and if it was summer, perhaps my maidservants and I would shell rice, laughing and chatting about the goings-on of the village. I would stop by the garden for a fresh vegetable to munch, practice my calligraphy alone in my room, and spar with my mother with my naginata. We would have dinner, and retire to our rooms to play games and talk. They were such quiet times, rarely changing, but comforting in their simplicity. 

I felt Okaju lay down beside me, and I flinched away. I didn’t want to be near a man after what happened to me. He didn’t seem to notice, pulling the covers over himself and turning so that his back was to me. I still cried silently, aware of the pain in my abdomen, fixedly staring into the dark forest. I could hear the voices of the men behind me, and tried to ignore them, keeping my gaze on the infinite blackness in front of me.


	10. Chapter 10

Nanazawa was unusually quiet the next morning. The men were bullying him more than ever, but he didn’t seem to notice. There was a look in his eyes I didn’t like, especially when he stared at me. Instead of his usual raging temper tantrums, he was subdued and thoughtful. I didn’t take this as a good sign.

While I ate a bowl of gruel, Okaju told me, “We’ll be reaching the city by tomorrow.”

I looked up, surprised. We hadn’t come upon any other villages or houses, or even any other Oni. I wondered how a presumably large city would be situated deep in the forest without any stragglers or townspeople walking around.

As we rode for the day, the tip of a mountain peeked above the horizon. I stared at it in fascination. I had seen paintings of mountains before, but never one in person. The snow-covered peaks loomed above the horizon, a foreboding presence that signaled how far I was from home. I was alone, in a strange place. I had never felt like this in my entire life. The sense of isolation, of silence and abandonment, was clear, and I sat silently as we rode closer. I felt a certain cramp in my belly, a familiar sensation that I could only hope what I thought it was.

That night, the last night that we traveled, I menstruated.

It was a wonderful feeling that washed over me when I peered down my hakama. The sensation of warm blood flowing down my thighs had never been so welcome. The pain that resonated in my womb was a relief to my anxieties, a balm to my horrified wonderings that I had indeed been pregnant.

As a woman of maturity, I had been prepared to accept the fact that I would bear a child someday. There had been no alternative—when I reached of age, I knew within me that if a male made love to me, I would conceive a child.

But while “made love” was no way to describe what Nanazawa did to me, it was still mating. There had been a chance that I would conceive. But fate was merciful to me, and my womb stayed empty.

Okaju was leading his horse to a pond when I intercepted him. “Okaju,” I whispered, and he gazed at me, his brow furrowed. “What?”

“I’m… I’m menstruating. Do you have anything that could soak up the blood?”

I expected him to panic—that was what most men when I talked to them about periods. But he nodded, understanding. “Very well. I’ll get you some rags and a new hakama. Sit by the futon.”

I walked back and sat down gingerly, trying not to stain the bedding. I heard footsteps approaching, and looked up, expecting it to be Okaju with the rags.

When I saw who it really was, I hissed and recoiled. Nanazawa sat down beside me, his face calm. “So you’ve started your time of the month.”  
I followed his gaze to the crotch of my pants, which was stained with blood. “Yes. I have.”

“So you aren’t with child.” His voice sounded disappointed. “I’ll have to remedy that, in the future.”

“We’ll see about that,” I retorted, moving away from him. “You’re not Okaju’s second-in-command anymore. You don’t have any rights, any protection. If you try anything else, he’ll punish you even more.”

His face tightened, but turned to control. “We will be in the city soon, and Okaju won’t be in charge of you anymore. Maybe you will even be deemed useless, after having been deflowered. Then, perhaps, I will be allowed to take you into my bed again.”

He reached for my crotch, and I slapped him away just as his fingertips brushed the pool of blood on the fabric. He brought his fingers to his lips, sucking on them, and I gagged. Menstrual blood smelled and tasted foul, and to see Nanazawa willingly consume it made my gorge rise. I was reminded of Nanazawa standing over Yaiki, his sword cutting down, and the blood spraying over the grass, and Keichiro, his head hacked off with one swing, blood spurting from his neck. The menstrual blood that decorated his lips seemed no different from the blood that that had stained his sword then.

“Nanazawa,” I heard Okaju say. “Get away from her.”

I felt an enormous relief as Nanazawa stood up, scowling, and turned to face the white-haired Oni.

“If I see you near her again,” said Okaju, his gold eyes boring into the red-haired Oni, “There will be repercussions, more serious ones. Until we get to the city, you are not to approach her, nor touch her, nor talk to her. Do you understand?”

Nanazawa growled, but stepped away. He cast one last angry glance at me. _Just wait until we get back to the city,_ his gaze seemed to say. As he stalked off, Okaju turned to me. He was holding a bundle of rags—from the pattern, they looked as if they had been cut from a discarded kimono. “Use these,” he said, handing them to me.”

Okaju also handed me a spare pair of hakama, and I murmured a word of thanks as I got up to change.

When I emerged from behind the tree, wearing my new hakama and with a piece of cloth tucked between my thighs, he took my old blood-stained one wordlessly and walked off. I sat down on the futon, wincing as cramps twisted my womb. I pressed my lower back, trying to make the pain fade. In a day we were arriving, and my fate would be called into question. I would be at the mercy of whoever ruled the Oni, and they would decide whether I would be returned or… or…

What if they decided I was useless? Would I be given to Nanazawa or another man, or killed? Being the daughter of one of their enemies, perhaps they would decide revenge was in order. They could torture me, rape me, make me feel the utmost pain before I died. I felt terror well inside of me, and I drew my legs up and wrapped my arms around them, shivering.

***

Cramps kept me up far into the night. I was exhausted, but the pain that reverberated through my belly kept jerking me back from the verge of sleep.

When I finally did doze off, my sleep was dreamless and brought me a calm oblivion. I saw nothing, I felt nothing. Only once did I awake.

I stared up at the sky, the clear blue expanse sprinkled with stars. The moon gazed down at me, milky white like a blind man’s eye. Presently I became aware of a form crouching beside me, so still and silent that for a moment I nearly dismissed it as a tree or rock. But it moved, until its shadow fell over me and a face leaned down to meet mine.

It was dark, but the moonlight illuminated its features just enough or me to see. It was a woman, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I had to have been dreaming. There was no way a woman like this could exist in reality. Her skin was pale, so pale it looked just like the moonlight that washed over both of us. Her eyes were gold and slitted, like the Oni, but the pupils were a bit rounder, and she had no horns. Oni eyes also couldn’t compare to hers—they were a perfect shade of gold, looking like rays of sunlight. She had on dashes of red makeup around her eyes, giving her a mischievous look. Her hair was as black as obsidian, decorated with bangles and ornamental hair pins, and so long it trailed on the ground. Her kimono was gold and red, embroidered richly. It lay loosely on her shoulders and pooled on the ground. She leaned closer, and her magnificent kimono shifted, the top of one smooth breast being revealed.

I opened my mouth to say something—I really didn’t know what, but I needed to say _something_ —and she closed the distance between us, her lips meeting mine. They were soft and gentle, unlike Nanazawa’s, and she slid her tongue between my lips, entwining it with mine.

I didn’t know—I didn’t _know_ what was happening. Women weren’t supposed to kiss each other like this. This kiss was not like any of the ones I shared with my maidservants or my mother, not a quick smack on the lips or cheek. This was a full-mouth kiss, slow and arousing. I could smell her scent, subtle and perfumed. Against my will, I felt my eyes drift shut. She was still close to me. I could feel her breath on my cheek, and her hair made a curtain around us, as she bent down to kiss me again.


	11. Chapter 11

The sun shone brightly on my face, the warmth rousing me from sleep. I sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, as the last vestiges of drowsiness fled my body. I could hear the camp buzzing faintly in anticipation of arriving at the city, packing up their futons and pots and pans. Okaju was already by the horses, saddling his mare and talking to one of his men.

The rag between my legs was soaked through, and I knew I needed to get another clean one before I stained my hakama. I threw off the covers and stood up, and all at once last night came back to me. I pressed my face into my hands, redness seeping into my cheeks. Had that… really happened?

I dismissed it almost at once. It had to have been a dream. There was no way a person could have snuck into the camp without waking someone up or catching someone’s attention, especially not with such a fancy kimono and so many shining ornaments. Someone would have noticed her…

I looked down at the ground beside me, where the woman in my dream had crouched last night. There were no imprints of a body in the soft dirt. Relieved, I nearly looked away, before I discerned faint impressions in the soil. Peering closer, I saw what looked like pawprints. I bent down to examine them more closely. Indeed, they were pawprints, ones of a fox. They led from the forest to my futon. I stared into the thick undergrowth, my mind whirling. So there had been someone here. A kitsune? Everyone knew of the kitsune’s seductive ways, often seducing and having children with human men, but never once had I heard of one doing to the same to a woman. I crouched there for another moment, confused, before a call brought me back to reality.

“Misayo-hime, we’re going.”

With a start, I realized I still hadn’t changed my menstrual rag yet. “Hold on!”

In a few minutes I was back on the horse, being jostled along as we rode down the path. The cramps had mostly gone, but I was still bleeding heavily, hot blood seeping out of me. I ached to just rest somewhere cool in the shade. My eyes drifted shut, and I leaned back and turned my head, trying to ignore the uncomfortable jolts. Okaju's shoulder armor was cool on my forehead, and I felt myself drift into a doze.

I had no idea how long I slept, but it seemed to have been a few hours at the least, judging by the position of the sun in the sky. I was awoken by the raucous cheer from the men, and as I blinked my eyes open, I realized I wasn’t in the forest anymore.

A city loomed in front of us, a great towering wall surrounding it. As we approached the entrance, I heard distant calls, then a slow rumble which I recognized as the people inside yelling and screaming. A crowd was slowly clustering at the entrance, and as we drew closer, I realized all of them were Oni.

They were an amazing variety, people with hair colors of the rainbow. Some had black hair, some red, some white. Some had red eyes or yellow eyes. Their horns twisted, stood straight up, curved like an ox’s. As we stepped into the crowd, the Oni clustered around us, touching the horses, grasping the men’s hands, laughing with delight.

I was drawing a few curious glances, and a few children ran alongside the horses, pointing to my forehead. Had they never seen humans before? One woman reached out a hand to skim over my leg, and I instinctively pulled it away.

We made out way slowly down the street, gathering still more onlookers. We were in a city, with vendors, houses, and shops lining the road. It was huge, some houses towering over the others, side roads leading off to temples, and an ever-increasing crowd of Oni swarming us.

“Who is that human girl?” yelled someone, their voice being quickly swallowed up by the noise of the crowd.

“Hey, what happened to your horn?” someone else yelled, presumably to Nanazawa. The roar of rage behind me confirmed it.

“How many humans did you kill?” was another question, which the Oni soldiers were only too happy to oblige. I winced and tried to ignore the argued estimates, keeping my eyes trained on the road in front of me. Running up to our horse, an Oni mother thrust her young son up to my face, letting him grab my forehead with his little hands. “Hey!” I said, outraged, batting him away.

I gritted my teeth, and Okaju nudged his horse on, going a little faster. The crowds gradually parted, and we were going faster, trotting through the city streets until the great sloping roof of an enormous palace rose up in the distance.

The Oni thinned out as we approached it, watching in the distance and murmuring as we dismounted. There were massive stone steps leading up to the red gate, and beyond was a gigantic palace that loomed above the city.

The men, with the exception of Nanazawa and Okaju, clustered at the bottom of the great stone steps, laughing and chatting, clearly delighted at being home. Okaju seized my arm, pulling me towards him, and straightened my shirt and hakama. He undid my hair, letting it fall past my shoulders, and ran his fingers through it, trying to straighten it out. Nanazawa looked over at me. “Where are those fancy kimonos? Can we put her in one of those?”

“Too late for that,” said Okaju, a frown creasing his brow. “We’ve got no time to put her in different clothes. We’ll have to take her into the palace as she is.”

***

The palace was enormous, with elaborately carved furniture and polished wood floors. The rooms were decorated with gorgeous painted shades, beautiful vases, and a ceiling seemed to stretch towards the sky. I had never been somewhere so beautiful, and when I walked in, it quite literally took my breath away

We waited in a large sitting room, crouched on the floor with our heads bent. I stared at the floor, tracing the whorls of the wood with my eyes. I didn’t want to think about what was going to happen from here on. It all depended on whether they saw me as useful for ransom or not. I was prepared to argue it out to the end, but even that may not be enough.

I heard footsteps approach, and the shade being pushed aside. A female voice said, “Rise.”

I stood up, and caught sight of the woman standing in front of us. She was dressed as a high-class woman, with a heavy blue kimono and gold hair pins. Her lips were dyed red, and her face powdered white. Her hands were folded in front of her, and her face had a smooth, expressionless quality that seemed familiar.

She was an older woman. Her hair was snow-white—although that may have been her natural hair color, being an Oni. Her face was wrinkled, and her eyes a sharp shade of gold. The horns that jutted from her brow were curved, like a goat’s horns. Her entire appearance, really, it seemed much too familiar…

“Lady Inaka,” said Okaju, keeping his head bowed. “We have brought good tidings.”

“Speak. Tell me.”

“We have captured the daughter of Lord Ashikage, and we might be able to ransom her back for money, or a promise to lay down his arms.”

“This is good news,” Lady Inaka said, and her eyes fell on me. “This is the girl, I presume. Why is she dressed as a man?”

“We had to retreat into the forest to bring her here,” said Okaju. “It wouldn’t have been sensible to keep her in women’s clothes.”

She nodded, and took a step forward to look at me closer. Okaju broke in, his voice wavering a little. “Lady Inaka, there is something you should know before we start hostage negotiations… this girl has been defiled as we retreated here.”

“What?” her voice was sharp as she turned her gaze to him. “How?”

“Nanazawa thought it prudent to take his pleasure of her when she was out of my sight.”

Lady Inaka hissed, a sudden burst of noise that made me flinch. She strode over to Nanazawa, raking her fingernails across his face in a sudden motion. He collapsed, clutching his face as blood seeped between his fingers.

“Not only that,” continued Okaju, “But he cut the hands off one of our own men when he displeased him. The man will never be able to wield a sword again.”

“Minehiro,” said Lady Inaka, her voice low and threatening. “There is no doubt that you are one of our best soldiers, but your disobedience has gone too far. You will be demoted from this day on. Not only that, we will cut your hair as well so that everyone knows of your punishment.”

Nanazawa looked up in horror, clutching his ponytail. With a sneer of disgust, Lady Inaka turned to Okaju. ““Makaze, we will take this girl into our quarters from now on. You are relieved of her custody. Your work has been greatly appreciated, and your leadership skills remain exemplary. I am most proud.”

As Okaju bowed lower, I heard a rustling from the shades on the other side. All of a sudden a figure ran out in a flurry of red cloth and tripping feet, flinging itself on Okaju. Surprised, he stumbled back as the figure continued to hug him, laughing joyfully. “Makaze niisan, Makaze niisan! You’re back!”

Okaju hesitantly turned his arm over her back as she nuzzled his shoulder. It was an Oni girl, perhaps a year or two younger than myself, her horns still barely curled. She wore a red kimono, and her hair was the same shade of white as Okaju and Lady Inaka. Her face was soft and childish, and her smile was sweet. Her eyes were the same color as Okaju’s but seemed lighter somehow, like a ray of sunshine as opposed to Okaju’s cold golden eyes. She was hugging Okaju tightly, giggling. I was suddenly reminded of Kaemi, and had to repress a small smile. Finally they broke apart, and she reached a hand up to pinch his cheek. “Niisan, you’re all red! Are you happy to see me?”

Okaju smiled softly and stroked her hair. It was the first time I had ever seen him smile, and a dramatic change seemed to come over him. It was if the stormclouds that constantly plagued his face were swept away, leaving a gentle and content look that completely changed his demeanor.

“Satsumi,” he said. “How have you been?”

“Great! How about you? How many humans did you kill?”

She said it so happily, so off-handedly, that I flinched back. My view of her as a little Kaemi was suddenly washed away. Her eyes—I noticed, slitted like Okaju’s—beamed up at him.

“We killed many,” he said, smiling. “Very many.”

I turned away, my eyes seeking something, anything else. I caught the fierce eyes of Lady Inaka, who was watching me closely, and turned back with a shudder.

Satsumi had turned her attention to Nanazawa now, observing him with a mischievous smile. “Minehiro niisan, what happened to your horn?”

Niisan? Why was she calling them both niisan? Did that mean that Okaju and Nanazawa were…?

Nanazawa’s eyes narrowed, and he snarled, but one look from Lady Inaka and he managed to restrain himself. “I was caught by surprise,” he growled.

Satsumi giggled. “You look silly!”

Nanazawa’s eyes flashed, but Okaju put a hand on his shoulder, his nails sinking into the fabric of his kimono. “Don’t, Nanazawa. She is our sister.”

“Your sister?” I blurted out. “Does that mean that you two are brothers?”

Okaju and Nanazawa went silent and looked over at me, while Satsumi seemed to catch sight of me for the first time.

She gazed at my forehead, her mouth gaping. “Wooow! She doesn’t have any horns! Is she a human?”

Okaju nodded, and her face lit up. She scampered over to me, reaching out to touch my forehead. I jerked back, but she pressed herself to me, her seeking fingers touching my head. Her nails skimmed over my hair, probing for horns, and when she didn’t find any, she laughed. “She is a human! Did you bring her for me, Okaju niisan?”

“No,” said Lady Inaka, her sharp voice penetrating the joyful atmosphere. “She is here as a hostage. Although that remains to be seen, seeing as Minehiro decided to defile her before she was brought here. Perhaps her family won’t take her back now.”

“No!” I cried, abandoning my attempts to get Satsumi off me and staring pleadingly at Lady Inaka. “My family will accept me! They love me—they won’t abandon me just because I’m not a virgin. I swear it!”

Lady Inaka stared at me hard. Her yellow eyes were like a hawk’s, watching for any signs of weakness. I stared back at her, trying not to blink. Finally she nodded. “Very well. I will believe you. But if you turn out to be lying, and your family does not accept you back, you are no longer any concern of mine. You are on your own.”

Nanazawa grinned, a foul smile that seemed to split his face in half, and I shuddered. I bowed low to Lady Inaka, forcing Satsumi to step away, and said, “I am grateful that you are willing to shelter me while I stay here. Thank you.”

Lady Inaka snorted, and turned away. “Satsumi, human girl, come with me.”

She swept off, and I ran after her, chancing one last glance back at Nanazawa and Okaju. Okaju looked cool as ever, his face blank and unreadable, and Nanazawa was still grinning. I gritted my teeth and followed Lady Inaka out, hoping I would never see either of them again.

As I followed her through the richly decorated corridors, I hesitantly asked, “So Okaju and Nanazawa are brothers?”

“Do not speak to me without permission,” she said, not even glancing at me. Her stern manner reminded me of my mother, and I was less offended than I could have been. Her regality and authoritative manner comforted me, in a childish way, despite the threats she had leveled at me.

I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry, Lady Inaka. May I ask you a question?”

“Speak.”

“Are Okaju and Nanazawa brothers?”

“They are half brothers. I bore Okaju with my first husband, and Nanazawa out of wedlock.”

“They’re your sons?” I gasped. The comparisons I had been making between Inaka and Okaju suddenly made sense. Their impassive demeanors, their hair and eye colors… the only thing I couldn’t believe was that Nanazawa was her son. They weren’t alike at all. He did share her eye color, true, but he was impulsive and emotional. They seemed as different as could be. His feral, animalistic expression; her calm, cool manner, they seemed so different that I could hardly compare them.  
The two… certain things did make sense. The tension between them, their entire relationship. How they seemed to dislike each other, yet stayed together and slept together. I could attribute enough to the homosexuality that was prevalent among samurai, but it seemed to overstep the boundaries; making them a paradox even to me. They were entwined in a certain way that I had never seen before.

“You will stay here.”

The room was a simple affair, just three blank walls and a futon. A vase stood aside the window, filled with flowers. I guessed this must be a room for low-ranked guests to stay. I entered the room, then stared back at Lady Inaka.

The question that was battering at the perimeters of my mind was how long I was going to be staying there. But there was no sure way of telling how long. Depending on the length of the messengers, it could be weeks, months, even years.

How long would it be? Would I stay here until my mother and father were dead, until my household departed, and I was nothing more than a forgotten memory when I came back?

I looked at Lady Inaka.

“Thank you, my lady. I am forever grateful for your offer of shelter in these hard times, and no words will express my gratitude.” I said, bowing.

She left without a word.


	12. Chapter 12

That night was terrifying and uncomfortable, not least because of my situation. My period cramps came back with a vengeance, and I spent half the night with my eyes squeezed shut, trying to ride out the pain that periodically spread through my belly.

Only when the screen door open did I take notice of the world around me. “Who’s there?” I barked, afraid that Nanazawa had come, disobeying his superior’s instructions. Instead, a small shrill voice sounded. “Human girl?”

It was Satsumi. “Yes,” I said, confused as to why she’d appeared. “What is it that you want?”

“You shouldn’t speak to me to rudely,” she scolded mildly, coming further into the room. “I am a princess. But I will forgive you. You are awfully interesting, after all.”

“What?” Confused, I struggled up as came closer. I could hear her soft, padding footsteps lead to the edge of my futon, and then a thump as she sat down.

The moonlight flooded the room, shining off the floor, the covers, the shades. Satsumi sat beside my futon, her head cocked to one side. The light shone off her pale locks, and as she bent closer, they pooled on the floor like a river of silver.

Her hair was loose, and she was dressed in a sleeping kimono. Her face was strangely serious, her golden eyes fixed on mine in an engrossed expression.

She reached out a hand to skim over my chest, and I jerked back. Satsumi folded her lower lip and scowled. “Stand still! I want to touch you.”

“Why do you want to touch me?” I wrapped the blankets around myself, safe from her probing hands. She rocked backs on her heels, still staring at me with a fascinated expression. “You have no horns. What else are you missing? I want to see.”

“I’m not any different from you,” I said. “Besides your horns, your body is the same as mine.”

“But Yuiha says that humans are different. She says that humans don’t have any belly buttons.” She was insistent, that way only young children could be. Again, she reminded me of Kaemi, who all too often had tried to convince me that there was so a youkai in the pond, because Mareko had told her that she had tripped and fallen in, and of course it was a monster trying to drag her down, and not just because the bank was slippery! I found myself smiling unconsciously, and to appease her, drew my clothes away from my body. “See? There’s my belly button. Just the same as you.”

Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled. A little jagged fang poked out, not as long or as sharp as the ones adult Onis had. “Yuiha’s going to be so embarrassed when I tell her!” She laughed.

She put out a small finger and poked my navel. “What—hey! Stop that!” I wriggled away. She laughed and dived into the futon with me, pressing her body close to mine. “Mmmm. You’re so warm, human girl.”

“Stop!” I tried to shove her away, but she clung on all the tighter. “Mother doesn’t let me sleep with her anymore,” she said, pressing her face into my chest. “And my Oba-san has a husband now, and won’t let me sleep with her, either! But you’re here now, and you’ll sleep with me, won’t you?”

Her hand dived into my sleeping kimono, grabbing my breast. Scared now, I tried elbowing her, but Oni truly were stronger than humans, and she just shoved me away.

She pulled my breasts out, ripping my clothes down the front, and enclosed one nipple in her mouth, sucking hard. Her eyes were half-shut, lidded in childish delight. Her other hand was wrapped around my other breast, a faintly possessive motion. I felt tears prick my eyes. Was I being violated again by an Oni, a child no less? Would this ever stop? Trying to hold back my sobs, I craned my head away as she suckled contentedly. The constant stimulation, coupled with her warm body pressed close to me, was making a pleasurable feeling spread through my lower belly.

Satsumi shifted, forcing a knee between my legs. As my legs were wrenched open, I felt heat drip out of my opening, right onto her leg. Her eyes flew open, and she pulled away. “What? What was that?” she examined her knee, which was smeared with a dark liquid. She remained confused for a few seconds, but gradually recognition dawned on her face. “Ohhh! Human girl, are you having your period?”

Sobbing now, I nodded and pulled my kimono over my legs. She sat back and gazed at me with wide eyes. “I haven’t gotten my bleeding yet. Mother says it will come soon, though. Is this really what it’s like?”

I sat up, wiping my eyes. “It’s… messy, yes. And painful. Your belly starts to hurt while all the blood comes out.”

Her face twisted up, and her hands fisted in her kimono. “I don’t want to get my period. It sounds scary.”

I tried to pull the covers over myself again, but she suddenly reached a hand out, sliding it between my thighs. She probed deep, hooking a finger inside my opening, and the sudden stimulation made me shudder. Panicked, my hand lashed out and slapped her face. Caught by surprise, she tumbled over backwards, and I tried to back away, but her hand shot out, grabbing my wrist.

Her eyes were glaring at me, cold and angry despite the fact that they were swimming with tears. I was suddenly reminded of Okaju, his emotionless golden gaze, and with a start I realized the two were more alike than I had thought.

Her hand tightened over my wrist. “If you touch me again,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. “I’m going to gouge you with my horns. I’ll tear out your throat. You’re just a stupid human and I’m an Oni princess. You should know your place!” The tone of her voice was filled with fury, a cold, controlled fury that made any doubts about the truth of her words vanish in fright. She pushed me down again, and I stayed down, my heart thumping. She leaned over me and dug her hand between my legs again, probing my entrance. I felt tears coming into my eyes again, but lay motionless, hoping it would all be over soon. After a moment, she withdrew her hands, staring at her fingers in fascination. “Wow… there’s so much blood coming out.”

She slid into bed beside me again, gripping my breast with her blood-stained hand. She nuzzled my chest and began sucking my nipple again, making noises of contentment. She looked for all the world like a little child who had never grown up, taking babyish pleasure in a familiar, comforting act. I knew children hated being weaned. Kaemi had always fought and cried when Sakue denied her access to her breast, and sulked for hours afterwards. Despite myself, I found my hand creeping toward her, stroking the back of her head. She made another noise, deep in her throat, and wrapped her legs around my waist.

I closed my eyes, my face burning. Having her nestled in my arms was strangely comforting, despite the humiliation involved, and I felt my eyes involuntarily drift shut. Drowsiness washed over me in a wave, and I unconsciously tightened my grip on Satsumi, as a mother would a child she didn’t want to roll away from her. I finally fell asleep, still lying on my futon with an Oni at my breast.


	13. Chapter 13

I was awoken in the morning by a maidservant with spiraling horns timidly tapping my shoulder. Satsumi was nowhere to be seen, thankfully. Perhaps she had gotten bored and left during the night.

After days of sleeping on the lumpy ground, I appreciated being able to wake up in a soft futon. I sat up and stretched, taking the bowl of meat and rice the maidservant offered with a nod of thanks. She sat to the side and watched cautiously while I ate.

The morning also brought the knowledge that I had stopped menstruating, which was a relief. My period had been blissfully short, probably due to my bad diet and the physical exertion of the past week. Had it been a week? It seemed longer than that. I felt like I had been traveling forever.

I discarded my bloody rags, cleaned my thighs with the bowl of water and rag at the side of the room, and put on the kimono that the maidservant gave me. It was beautifully-made, patterned blue, and the smooth fabric felt nice on my skin. She tied it and went to work on my hair, combing it out then pinning it on top of my head. It was a relief to wear women’s clothes again, even if they were harder to move around in.

I followed her out of my room and down the hall, weaving through the passageways. I couldn’t help but pause sometimes and look out of the windows at the magnificent courtyard, with its ponds and cherry trees and bridges. The maidservant kept urging me on, though, and eventually we emerged into a massive room, decorated and gilded, with crowds of beautifully-dressed Oni milling about. As soon as we stepped in, all attention turned to us, and the Oni parted to let us through.

They stared and whispered, men and women with gorgeous kimonos and slitted eyes. Some held children, who pointed at my forehead and exclaimed, only to be quickly shushed by their parents. The women wore elaborate porcelain hair ornaments, the men sometimes sporting jewel earrings and bracelets, their kimonos patterned with flashy designs. A massive throne on a dais sat on the far side of the room, upon which what looked like a peacock crouched. As we drew closer, the peacock shifted, and I realized it was a person.

It was a woman, a middle-aged woman—at least, I thought. It was hard to tell her age because of the thick makeup that covered her face. Her night-black hair was piled on top of her head, festooned with jeweled hair ornaments. Her lips were colored bright red, a red so vivid it seemed like a splash of blood on her face.

With a start, I realized why I had mistaken her for a peacock. The back of her golden chair was decorated with peacock feathers, and her kimono was a bluish-green color that shone iridescent in the sunlight, shifting colors every time she moved.

Two enormous horns jutted from her forehead, at least two feet long. Unlike the horns of most of the Oni I had seen, these were jet black, shining like onyx. They were perfectly straight, instead of being curled backward. As she moved her head, I noticed that they were also filed to sharp points. Her eyes were the color of rubies, sharp and cold, and they focused on me as the maidservant pushed me forward.

I hurriedly got on my knees and bowed, knowing that this was a woman of substantial standing. My eyes fixed on the floor, I heard her voice.

“So. You are the daughter of Lord Ashikage.”

It was a statement, not a question, so I kept my body still, not answering or nodding.

“Fukushiro.” She spoke again. I heard footsteps approaching me. I glanced up. A man in a brown hakama and curved ox-horns stared impassively down at me.

“Take a lock of her hair.”

He reached out with his clawed hand, grabbing a hank of my hair. With a slicing motion, he tore the claws of his opposite hands down, severing a piece of my hair. It took all of my willpower not to flinch away when he cut down, but I somehow managed to remain stationary. I was terrified of moving. I was terrified of doing anything. The eyes boring into me from all sides, the whispers, the queen staring down at me from on high.

“Human girl. Give him a message. One that he will know comes from you and you only.”

Swallowing my fear, I squeezed my eyes shut and spoke. “Tell him to please rescue me as soon as possible. Make sure Sakue and Kaemi are okay. And don’t let what happened to Suzume happen to me!”

None of the other Oni, not even Okaju or his men, knew that Suzume had been the girl’s name. My father did—I had heard him addressing her kindly several times. She was one of the minor members of the household. And if he was in contact with my mother by now, he would know she was one of the ones who hadn’t made it. I only hoped he could connect the facts from there.

The messenger nodded and stepped back. The peacock queen waved her hand in dismissal. Abruptly, I was pulled back into the crowd, and I felt a multitude of hands start touching my forehead. Conversation started up again, and people began dispersing.

Oni were swarming me, touching my head, kneading my brow, exclaiming over my lack of horns. Uncomfortable and beginning to panic, I wriggled, wanting to get out of their needy grasps. Thankfully, a high, piping voice rose over the excited voices; a very familiar voice. “Human girl! Human girl! You’re here!”

The crowd parted, shoved aside by a cheerful white-haired figure. She was so eager to get to me she practically had to fight her way through the throng. She was so loud and insistent many of the other nobles drew back.  
She reached me and grabbed my hand, towing me forward. “Come on! I want to show you to my friends!”

She pulled me out of the crowd, leaving a bunch of wide-eyed Oni staring after me. She led me toward a group of small children lingering at the back of the hall. Some seemed as young as five, their horns only barely growing out of their foreheads.

As soon as I reached them, they drew forward, their bright eyes curious. Still, they stood back, half-afraid, as if I were about to attack them. “She doesn’t have any horns,” said a little Oni girl, drawing forward to timidly touch my forehead.

Satsumi waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry!” she proclaimed loudly. “She won’t hurt you! I slept with her last night. She’s cuddly and warm!” To demonstrate this, she rushed over and wrapped her arms around me, planting a kiss on my cheek. The fear that my presence had seemed to permeate among the group of children vanished. They came forward, shy, but still touching me, stroking my forehead. I was significantly less cautious of them than I was the adult Oni, so I let them. They climbed all over me, sitting on my lap, clutching my shoulders, and pressing against me. Their little bodies seemed so fragile, and despite the memories of my father telling me how dangerous Oni children were, I wasn’t afraid. I felt a certain disarmament about them, their childish antics amusing me as Kaemi’s had when I was back home. I wrapped an arm around an Oni boy’s waist as he sat on my lap, and patted the head of another as she pressed her hands against my forehead, looking for horns.

“Don’t humans have belly buttons?” said another little girl skeptically, reaching under my kimono. Satsumi slapped her away. “No, Yuiha! We aren’t supposed to do that in the hall!”

The girl withdrew, looking unsatisfied, and Satsumi clambered onto my lap, shoving off the little Oni boy that had been clinging to me. “The human girl has a belly button, and all the other things a girl should have. I slept with her last night and I looked all over her body. The only things she does not have are horns.” She said imperiously. The other children looked at her in wonder, then erupted in a series of questions. “Wow, nothing else?” “But surely she must be different!” “My father said humans don’t have…”

The chatter was interrupted abruptly by a smooth voice cutting in. “Excuse me, Misayo-hime?”

I turned around, startled that anyone had addressed me by my actual name. A woman stood there. No, a man stood there. At least, I think it was a man. The person’s beauty was so androgynous that my brain temporarily stopped thinking.

He was slender, with a woman’s figure that was accentuated by the tight kimono he wore. The kimono itself was richly decorated and lined with fur, giving him a regal air. However, his black hair was not pinned up like a woman’s, and it was loose and flowing, reaching down to his waist. His horns were bone-white and curled, like Okaju's and Nanazawa’s; they were polished so brightly that they looked like ivory. His face was narrow and high-cheekboned, with long lashes framing his scarlet eyes.

As they focused on me, I couldn’t suppress a shudder. They were as red as blood, and seemed to carry a hidden mirth, a lascivious malice that took delight from the sight of me. I instinctively tightened my grip on Satsumi, making her squirm.

“What do you want, Nagamaru?” she said loudly, sliding off my lap and marching up to him. He bent down, still smiling unnervingly. “Satsumi, please step away. I wish to speak to the Hime privately.”

“You got something to say to her, say it here,” she said firmly, making me swell with admiration for her. I couldn’t help but hide a smile, and he noticed, his eyes narrowed.

“Misayo-hime,” he said in a sickly-sweet voice, brushing past Satsumi to kneel beside me. The children retreated, staring at the man with undisguised fear.

“I hear,” he said, “You are the one who knocked Mine-kun’s horn off. Is this true?”

For a moment I wondered who “Mine-kun” was, before I remembered Lady Inaka and Satsumi calling Nanazawa “Minehiro”. I nodded cautiously.

His smile widened. “Perfect! So then, you must be good with a katana, no?”

I blinked, confused. “No, I use a naginata.”

His smile froze. “A naginata, hmm?” He retreated a few steps.

I had never been taught to use a katana, being more used to using the weapon of women, a naginata. This appeared to upset him.

He stayed as he was, his face still frozen in place, before he spoke again. “So, I assume you are talented with a naginata?”

“A little bit,” I said, not sure how to answer. It was true, fighting with the spearlike weapon was my strong point, at least opposed to calligraphy and shelling rice. The soldiers had often told me how good I was with the weapon.

“Then,” he said, “Will you face me in a match?”

“A match?”

“Cross blades with me, and fight me in a honorable battle.”

“Oh! I…um…” I was startled. I had never been in ‘an honorable match’, save for the training sessions with my mother. I had no idea how I would fare. But the pent-up energy inside me was straining at its bonds, and I felt my body tense in anticipation of a fight. I hadn’t fought in a battle for so long…

“Very well.” There was little to no chance I would die, and I was aching to use my skills. I wanted to drive my blade against someone, to fight someone, to rail against someone. The temptation of beating an Oni within an inch of their life was too beguiling.

“Wonderful.” He stood up. “Misayo-hime, I will await our battle with anticipation.” He withdrew into the crowd, his eyes fixed on mine. I averted my gaze, clenching my fists. I knew what I was agreeing to was most likely nothing more than humiliation and defeat. No matter how well I was trained, he was a court warrior. But the allure of a good fight was too strong. I wanted to thrash, to come to blows, to beat. I shoved the child off my lap and stood up, staring at him unwaveringly. _You’d better prepare yourself._


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in so long-- school's been taking up most of my time. Updates will probably be a little less frequent. Thanks to all my readers!

“Nagamaru is a samurai,” said Satsumi, clinging onto me. “Why are you challenging him?”

I stared down at her, at her wide-eyed face, her arms clutching my body. “Because I want to fight.”

“Why?”

“Because…” I couldn’t exactly tell her it was because I hated Oni. She had a hidden temper that I didn’t want to aggravate. “Because I’m angry.”

“Why are you angry?”

“Because I want to be back with my family.” That was the gentlest way I could put it to her.

She furrowed her brow. “But don’t you like being here? With me?”

I was spared of answering by the maid entering the room. She was clutching a naginata wrapped in a red cloth. She set it down on the ground and retreated, keeping her eyes on me cautiously.

I stood up, Satsumi falling off me. I was dressed in a looser-fitting kimono, like the ones I was used to sparring in. My hair was pinned up as to not get in the way. I unwrapped the naginata and hefted it in my hands. It was light and polished, the blade curved and sharp. I shifted it from hand to hand, getting a feel for it.

“Nagamaru’s famous in the court,” said Satsumi, propping her chin up on her hands as she watched me. “He’s one of our best fighters. Only Nanazawa has ever defeated him in one-on-one combat.”

“Oh?” I swallowed hard. This did not bode well. I was just a country-trained girl, and I was facing a seasoned warrior. I clutched my naginata, rubbing the ball of my thumb over the wooden shaft. Secluded in my little room, I had been given no chance to practice. The naginata felt alien in my hands.

“Please come with me.” The maid beckoned me from the doorway, and I gave Satsumi a reassuring pat on the head before I walked out with her.

I hadn’t seen the courtyard yet. When I emerged into the sunshine I was dazzled. Gardens and pools filled the elaborate place, cherry trees shading men and women who lounged on the lawn. Koi swam idly underneath the glistening surface of the pools, their lithe white and orange bodies flickering through the cool water. The gardens were filled to bursting with flowers of all colors, vivid red, deep blue, and pale white. A yank on my hand and I was pulled into the center of the courtyard, where a crowd of Oni were forming.

They whispered and pointed, excitedly chattering as we approached them. A man stood in the middle of the crowd, his hair pinned up, dressed lightly in a blue men’s kimono. He stood casually, and his face was relaxed and smiling, but I could sense an undercurrent to his posture, something unidentifiable but unnerving.

He held his naginata in front of himself, beckoning me forward. “Misayo-hime, I am ever so pleased you could come,” he said. His voice was practically dripping, and I suppressed a shudder.

“Well, I was looking forward to facing you,” I said, as politely as I could. Had I wanted to be sarcastic or taunt him, I would have substituted “beating” for “facing”, but the fact remained that he was probably going to defeat me. I didn’t want to give him any material he could use to mock me with after the battle.

The crowd retreated, leaving us a large space for us to battle in. I walked up to him, eying his smiling face cautiously. He always seemed to be smiling. It made me wary. It wasn’t the sort of cheery, perpetual smile Mareko had. It seemed to hide something ominous, like a pretty mask over an ugly man.

I bowed to him, and he did likewise.

We took two steps away from each other.

And we drew our weapons.

Something soon became very clear to me. Nagamaru wasn’t used to handling a naginata. His swipes were clumsy, rudimentary, and mostly showy. He had had training, but only basic training. Being a man of the court, he was probably mostly trained with the katana, the weapon of men.

I thrust forward, knocking the base of his naginata and throwing it aside. But as quick as a grasshopper, he brought it back, sending it to clash with my blade. He was fast. Despite his inexperience with the weapon, he was naturally talented, enough to catch me off guard. I stepped back, pulling my naginata towards me. We slowly circled each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

It was me who went first. I slashed forward, trying to hit his waist. He sliced with his naginata towards my neck, and I was forced to pull up my weapon to defend myself. We weren’t looking to kill each other—merely defeat or disarm. I had had a lot of practice with my mother, so I knew quite well how to fight without intending to kill. By the looks of it, so did Nagamaru. His moves were shallow and guarded, although that may have just been his inexperience talking. When I was fighting with my mother, she fought weakly, with the knowledge that she was only practicing, only training, not seeking to take a life. But still, she had a certain strength to her movements, something that I didn’t see in Nagamaru. He battled cautiously, pulling back frequently and wasting his time on trivial moves designed to make the crowd gasp. It was odd—even when his weapon met mine, I detected none of the inherent strength of the Oni. Was he holding back?

He brought his naginata down in a long, slow swipe, a flagrant attempt to draw the audience’s attention. I wondered if he were this showy when he was using the katana. I thrust against his shoulder, pushing against him hard enough to make his lose his balance. He stumbled back, but his eyes flashed, and he slashed forward, and I had to lunge aside to avoid getting hurt. The blade tore though the shoulder of my kimono, tearing the fabric. I felt uneasiness erupt within me, wondering how far he would go to defeat me. That move had been violent, designed to wound.

He started attacking with more ferocity, putting all his weight into his strikes. I deflected him deftly, but not without trouble, using all the muscles in my arms to throw him off.

“Confident now, are we?” I couldn’t help taunt as we drew back, contemplating our next moves. “Did you think fighting a human woman was going to be easy? Well, you’re wrong. How much training have you had with a naginata? Not much, it seems!”

He lost his temper at that, thrusting forward haphazardly, not bothering to block. I aimed for the base of his shaft, looking to disarm him, but he suddenly blocked me, swinging his naginata downward. Had I been fooled? I stepped backward, parrying him, but he jerked his weapon, nearly tearing my naginata out of my grasp. I was barely hanging onto its tip, but I clenched my hands and dragged it back, stepping out of range so that I could collect my thoughts.

My head was pounding, as was my heart. He was using devious moves, trying to catch me off guard. It was working too well. I had to keep my mind clear and anticipate his moves. No more attacking without abandon. I had to read his body language.

_“Always keep an eye on your enemy,” said my mother, watching me scramble up, reaching for my naginata. She knocked it out of reach, putting the tip of hers on my throat. “See? I killed you. If you had noticed I was about to disarm you, you would still be alive.”_

I lunged, tightening my grip. He struck again, aiming for my arm, and I lashed sideways, jarring him. He stepped backwards, drawing his naginata upward a bit, but the muscles in his forearms tensed, and in that split second I realized what his next move was going to be.

Instead of another showy upswing for the benefit of the crowd, he lashed straight at my waist. It was a quick move, but I had been expecting it. Where I might have otherwise relaxed or tried blocking upward as he tried another crowd-pleasing move, I caught him midway, my blade aimed straight for his wrist. I was leaving the front of my body unguarded, but if I won this move, I would win the battle.

Blood speckled the grass.


	15. Chapter 15

Nagamaru’s naginata fell to the ground.

Nagamaru stared in shock at his hand, blood welling from a thin slice across his wrist. His gaze slowly turned to his naginata, then back to his wrist.

The crowd erupted.

“Look! She disarmed him!”

“The human girl defeated Nagamaru!”

I kept a firm hold on my naginata, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in my belly. Blood was slowly spreading across the fabric of my kimono.

Nagamaru made a distracted sort of grab for his weapon, but I put the edge of my blade on his neck. “Stay where you are.”

He slowly straightened up, some of the mist clearing out of his eyes. “Well, well. It looks like you’ve beaten me.” His voice was light, but strangely emotionless. He beamed, but his face didn’t smile with him. His eyes were blank, distant, like his mind was somewhere far away. He bowed low, and I did likewise.

After that, the crowd obscured any sight I had of him.

***  
.  
I sat alone in my room.

My wound had been bandaged. It still hurt to bend over, but it wasn’t a deep wound. It would heal soon. Nagamaru’s naginata had made a shallow cut in my midriff, slight enough that it could be mistaken as an accident. I still didn’t know how far he intended to go in our fight—it wasn’t intended as an official fight, a duel ending in the death of an opponent. But he had sure acted as if it were.

Still, the thrill of winning was enough for me. Even if the crowd had looked at me with a foreign sort of fascination, a dark sort of amusement like watching a caged tiger, they had cheered. I had proclaimed myself victorious. I had luck to thank for some of that—if Nagamaru had had a little more training with the naginata, I would have been a lot worse off. But my mother’s techniques had come in handy, and I sent out a silent thank-you to her.

It was getting late, the sky deepening to dark blue as the noon turned to evening. As I sat, I looked around the room. It was bare, except for a flickering lamp and a vase of flowers, which had recently been replaced early this morning.

I crawled over to them and lifted a lily to my face. I breathed in, the fresh scent invigorating me. They reminded me of the lilies that grew by the pond back home, the ones I would always try to wade out and pick, before Sakue snatched me back, scolding me for going out too far. _You could drown! A kappa could pull you down!_

I felt tears bead in my eyes, and I blinked them away. Now was not the time to be reminiscing. I would see her soon. I was sure of it. My father would do anything to rescue me.

But a little voice still whispered in the back of my mind. Was he even alive? It hadn’t been long since the message had been dispatched, but I couldn’t stop myself from worrying. Okaju had said he was fighting Oni in the north. What about Danjirou? The words my father had spoken the last night he had stayed, about his fear of the Oni, of Danjioru having to face them, weighed heavily on my mind. I felt myself become consumed with a wave of fear for my brother. Little Danjirou, sweet Danjirou, the pink-faced little baby that I had held in my arms, the small boy that had toddled after me as we raced down the halls, the young man that had marched off to war with my father; his face still round with baby fat, his hand still compulsively clutching my father's. The thought of him dying sent a tremor of terror through my body.

I pressed the heels of my wrists into my eyes, trying to calm my breathing. I let the silence of my room sweep over me, and soon I was calm again. I took a big breath and looked out the window, at the darkening sky.

Footsteps alerted me to a person approaching, and my gaze fell on the sliding door as it opened. The footsteps were light, so I expected a woman approaching—perhaps the maidservant or even Lady Inaka. When the door slid open and my visitor stepped in, I was shocked at the fact that it was Nagamaru.

He was wearing a rather fancy embroidered kimono, black and red, like his hair and eyes. His hair was loose, falling nearly to his waist in a shower of jet black. His had applied some makeup, mostly to his lips, so that they shone as red as blood. He looked like a woman. His naturally feminine features did not help the matter; had this been the first time I saw him, I would have assumed he was female, no questions asked.

I scrambled backward on my hands and knees. “What are you doing here?”

His lashes swept down, his face feigning surprise. “Misayo-hime! I simply wanted to congratulate you on your victory!” His voice was hurt, but I didn’t like the look in his eyes. They were dark and narrowed, watching me closely with an unpleasant mirth.

“You have already done so. Leave!”

“So rude! Misayo-hime, please listen to the words I have to tell.” He sat down, folding his legs under him. I stayed where I was, my back to the wall, watching him closely.

“I,” he said, “Have had a talk with Lady Inaka. We discussed your situation, and more importantly, your future.”

I already disliked the direction this conversation was taking. “Why—“ I started, but he kept talking.

“She said you were being kept indefinitely, until you were sent home or your father was killed, upon which your fate would become uncertain,” he said. “However, I asked her a few questions, and some things are now clear. As of now, you are not to be raped. Nor are you to be murdered, or harmed in a way that might result in your death.”

I felt a small rush of relief. “That’s good to hear,” I said. At least I was safe here…

“However!” His finger rose. “That leaves a few things to be debated. Her exact words were, you are not to be sexually harmed _‘in a way that might compromise your value’_. Thus, long as you don’t get pregnant, your body is fair game.”

I felt a chill run down my backbone. “What are you—“

“And as you are not to be killed, physical abuse of your body is also acceptable,” he continued. “ _As long as you don’t die_. So really, there are a number of things that can be done to you, as long as you aren’t impregnated or killed. A number of things.” His voice was cheery, his eyes crinkled in amusement.

I felt as if my body was soaring down a deep, dark hole. “N-No— you can’t—“

He lunged forward, and his hand captured my chin. All at once, I felt his lips close on mine. I tried to jerk my head away, but his nails bit into my skin, holding me in place. His tongue thrust into my mouth, and I panicked and bit down.

He jerked his head back, a droplet of blood welling from a cut on his lip. He brought his finger to the wound and stared at the bloodstain on his fingertip, shining in the lamplight.

All of a sudden his arms shot out, gripping my neck. He slammed me into the ground, and stars exploded across my vision as my came into contact with the hard wooden floor.

Soon after, a crushing weight on my throat brought me back to reality, and I gagged, clawing his arms with my nails. He seemed impervious to the pain I was trying to inflict on him, only pressing harder. My oxygen supply was cut off. Tears beaded in my eyes as I choked for air. I kicked weakly, but his body was as hard as a rock, crouching over me. Despite his delicate appearance, he was truly an Oni, and the strength in his limbs attested to that.

I felt my gaze start to go hazy around the edges. My mouth was open, saliva dripping out of the corner of my mouth. I couldn’t breathe. _I couldn’t breathe._ I desperately wanted to suck in a breath of air, but my airway was being blocked, the pain on my throat growing, it seemed, ever heavier as I writhed and clawed and gasped.

“Are you going to let me kiss you?” His voice was so soft, his warm breath on my ear. Desperately wanting to alleviate my suffering I nodded, my eyes fixing on his as I plaintively mouthed pleas. All at once, the pressure was gone, and I sucked in sweet mouthfuls of air, coughing weakly as my throat began to throb.

He lay down next to me, turning my face towards his. Through my bleary gaze, I saw his face, as if it were sculpted out of porcelain. His pale skin, his scarlet eyes, his plump lips. As he kissed me, I could not feel any other emotions than relief. I wasn’t being choked anymore. That was all I cared about.

His tongue played with mine, entwining and dueling inside of my mouth. Our faces were so close together our foreheads were pressed together. I kept coughing, and he kept separating, until with a huff, he pulled away from me and wrenched the hem of my kimono upward.

He forced my legs open and buried his head between my thighs. I felt shivers spread up my lower back as he dipped his tongue into my core.

My entire body spasmed, and I grabbed his hair, trying fruitlessly to yank him away. But he kept his head firmly buried between my thighs, and I felt his tongue trace along my lower lips. The stimulation was jarring, and I felt the slickness of his saliva cover my thighs.

He pressed his tongue onto my nub, and my entire body jolted. A current of pleasure spread through my lower body, and I tried to struggle up, only to be pushed down again. He rubbed in circles with the ball of his finger, pressing down and making me gasp. Smiling at my reaction, he dug the tip of his nail onto my center. The sudden, sharp pain made me lash my leg out on reflex, and I was lucky enough to catch him on the side of his head, knocking him backward.

I tried to fight my way to my feet, but his hand lunged out and grabbed my wrist. I punched him with my other hand, my fist making a satisfying knocking sound against the side of his head. He collapsed again, and I fell backwards, thrusting out my hands to break my fall.

One of my arms was trapped underneath me as I fell, and as I hit the floor, my entire body weight came on top of it. I felt a paralyzing pain spread through my limb, and yanked it free, rolling onto my side.

Nagamaru was on top of me in an instant, pinning me down. I writhed and kicked, but his claw bit into my bandaged wound, and the pain jolting through my system made me arch my back in agony. His fingertip dug further into the bandages, and I felt my wound open up, staining the white with a slowly-spreading dot of blood.

“Blood is so beautiful, isn’t it?” He asked me dreamily as I wailed in agony. “It’s beautiful. Whether it’s the blood that comes from an open wound, or the blood that comes from a woman once a month… Such a beautiful color, such a beautiful smell, such a beautiful taste.”

Tears streamed down my face. My struggles did nothing. The pain wouldn’t stop. The pain wouldn’t stop.

My gaze was swimming, the pain making me hazy. I gave a weak wriggle, but it barely seemed to register to Nagamaru.

“How could you, a human, defeat me? I am a samurai, I defeated so many enemies…and you are so weak. It must have been a fluke. Yes, a fluke.”

I nearly laughed. Why was it that Oni seemed to believe that my defeating them seemed to necessitate some sort of punishment? Nanazawa, and now Nagamaru. It was their own fault that they lost to me. Pathetic. Pathetic, pathetic.

“What did you say to me?” His voice took on a cold tone, and I realized I had said my last thought out loud.

“I said, you’re pathetic,” I gurgled, as his finger thrust deeper. He was tearing open my wound, the blood soaking through the bandage and dripping down my waist.

“Oh?”

“I… defeated you. You lost to me in a fair battle. And now you… you seem to think that it was a mistake that you lost. But… you’re just bad. Bad at battling with a naginata! You should have never… challenged me.”

His finger was gone, and I curled up on the floor, clutching my bleeding wound. I gasped in pain as he grabbed my shoulder, turning me over for me to face the floor.

He grabbed my shoulders, shoving me to the ground. He pressed his lower waist onto mine, and I felt his hard length pressing against me.

“It was luck,” he said. “Pure luck that you defeated me.” He thrust, and I felt him force my legs apart.

“You haven’t just injured me,” He hissed. “You have injured my pride as an Oni. To be defeated by a mere human. You have humiliated me! So utterly!”

I wrenched my head back, headbutting him from behind. He lunged back with a cry. “You—!”

“I hate you!” I screamed. “All of you! You filthy Oni! You filthy, raping, murdering bastards! All of you deserve to die! You’ve taken everything from me! Everything!”

He came back in an instant, shoving my head down to the ground. “Shut up— You have no right to speak to me like that. I am one of the most powerful samurai in the court, and you have taken my pride and dashed it to bits!”

He hissed in my ear as he moved his waist against mine, as if he were mating with me. I could feel his member thrust against me, only layers of cloth preventing it from full penetration.

“You filthy, weak human. You think you can dash me against the ground like some second-rate opponent and leave without a word?”

His breath washed over my ear.

”If I were allowed to, I would make you my wife and violate you every day. I would break you until you begged for forgiveness every time you saw me, until you prostrated yourself before me whenever I demanded it. I will never forget what you have done to me in the presence of the whole court!”

What weak beings Oni were. To be so furious when a human defeated them. I could not help but laugh!


	16. Chapter 16

My arm ached, pain radiating through the injured limb whenever I lifted it. My throat felt like it was lined with dried grass. Whenever I coughed, a sharp pain struck the inside of my throat, and I could barely swallow. My midriff had stopped bleeding, thankfully, but it still felt as if a glass shard was jabbing me whenever I moved. My whole body hurt. I could hardly breathe.

When I looked at my reflection in the bowl of water, I saw that bruises had blossomed around my neck, ugly and purple. With difficulty, I poured some water down my throat and used the rest to clean my body.

It was still night. Nagamaru had left some time ago, thankfully. The lamp still burned, illuminating the room in shades of yellow. I stared at it blankly, watching the trembling flame. Each breath I took, my throat ached and my belly stung. The pain was constant. Was it something I would have to live with, every day of my life?

I thought of Suzume. She had ended her pain early. I didn’t know what would have happened to her had she been taken back to the Oni city. Sold as a prostitute? Taken as a concubine by one of the men? Killed? Perhaps… perhaps she had done the right thing, taking her own life…

I stopped that train of thought abruptly. No. Suzume should have never killed herself. Had she still been alive, I would have taken care of her once we went back to the city, surely. I would have demanded she be freed, or… or...

 _I would,_ a whispering voice in the back of my head spoke up, _have done nothing_.

I shut that train of thought out immediately. Because, of course I would have done something. Of course I would have, eventually.

My thoughts returned to my father. Everything depended on him. If he was able to negotiate for a ransom, I would be home safe and sound. If he wasn’t… I tried not to dwell on that. He would save me. I had to keep that thought in my mind. If I didn’t, I don’t know what I would do with myself. I held onto it, onto the hope that he would rescue me, pay any price it took to get me home.

I thought of my father, his broad face smiling, his black hair sticking to the back of his neck as he put his katana down, sweeping me up into a hug. Back when it had just been the three of us, me, Mother, and Father. Before Danjirou had been born, before this whole war started.

I dimly remembered, in the haze of childhood memory, a day when my father, received a message. He had invited the messenger into his room, talking for what seemed like hours. When the messenger left, my father emerged, ashen-faced. He had taken my mother aside and talked to her, while I hovered, trying to catch a snippet of conversation until Sakue took me away with a reprimand.

The days after were filled with tension. My parents refused to talk to me about what was going on. My mother was perpetually worried, her face furrowed, always seeming distracted. Soon after, Danjirou was born, but their euphoria at his birth soon gave way to the same harried atmosphere that had persisted before his birth.

I soon busied myself with other things, like my maidservants, my calligraphy, my etiquette lessons. Eventually, the atmosphere shifted, the worry was gone, and my mother began to smile. My father always seemed to be distracted, and messengers came often, to the point where he waited outside of the gates for them to arrive. It was a happy time, with the joy of my brother’s childhood lightening our days, but it was also a tense time.

The day my brother turned ten, a message came that changed all our lives. I had been old enough to know what was going on then. The peace between Oni and humans had been tense, weak, a frail string waiting for the faintest pressure for it to snap.

A border skirmish between a farmer and an Oni samurai had been that faint pressure. Apparently the Oni had demanded food and shelter for the night, and the farmer had killed him out of fear, taken him by surprise and slit his throat with his sickle.

That had spread a reaction across the border, the humans scurrying inland, and the Oni, who normally kept to themselves in the forest, advancing out into human land. The Emperor had refused any negotiations, and they had gone to war, one side against the other. There were few Oni, but their superior strength made them dangerous enemies, and soon they were sweeping the human forces.

My father had been called away to fight them. He had taken my brother by the hand, bid us goodbye, gathered a number of village men, and left. Save for the messages that were sometimes sent, we were alone.

I remember my mother sinking into despair. I remember crouching outside her screen door, listening to her sobs. I remember wondering if my father was ever going to come back. 

My mother, my father… just the memory of them made tears bead in my eyes. I angrily wiped them away. Of course I would see them again, all of them. My father would leave the war—whether he won or lost, I didn’t care— and he would come home, and my mother would embrace him, and he would sweep me into his arms… and everything would be all right again.

I clenched my fists as the tears flowed faster and faster. Every gasp I took made a sting of pain pierce my belly, made my throat feel like hot coals were searing it. But I couldn’t stop. Every sob gave way to another sob, more tears appeared to replace the tears I shed. I curled up on the floor, wracked with misery. I wanted my mother. I wanted my father. I didn’t want to be here!

I would have given anything to be back home, in the home I had grown up in. I would have given anything to be able to hold Kaemi again, to kiss Mareko, to be near my mother. To just return to the comfortable leisure of everyday life. I buried my face in my hands as I remembered the simple comforts I took for granted. The pleasure of having my hair combed by Sakue, the joy of holding a naginata and fighting with it. The fresh taste of a cucumber as Keichiro handed it to me, beaming and bragging about the wonderful dishes his wife made. Noriho washing our clothes and yelling at us when we got too close to her as we splashed in the lake, Emie squealing and clinging to me as we got into a deep spot…

“Do you really want to see your family again?”

A smooth voice awakened me from my reverie. I slowly lifted my head up, to meet the gaze of the fox woman.


	17. Chapter 17

She looked exactly the same as when I had last seen her. Her kimono shimmered in the dim light of the lamp, gold and red like a phoenix. Her face was sculpted perfectly, like a statue, almost too beautiful to be real. She stepped closer, her shadow flickering on the wall behind her. It was of a standing fox, nine tails waving in the dull shadow cast by the flame. 

“Who are you?” I burst out, recoiling. A pang of pain struck my belly, and I gasped, clutching it.

“Misayo, don’t you recognize me?” Her coquettish voice rung out across the room. “When I visited you that night, and I kissed you?”

“Y-yes…” My voice was shaking. I didn’t want to acknowledge her, as a kitsune or as a partner. I backed against the wall, warily keeping my distance.

“Oh, Hime... don’t be frightened of me.”

“What do you want?” I demanded, keeping my distance. Her eyes crinkled in delight. 

“I’m just here to help you.”

“Why?” I demanded, wrapping my arms around myself. I didn’t like the way she was eying me. 

“Misayo, don’t you remember when you gave me that rice?”

“What?” It took me a few moments to remember what I had done. “Oh! That rice I had fed you!” My hopes rose. Did that mean that she would help me escape?

She beamed. “Yes! You fed me and cared for me, out of your own will!” She fell onto her knees, sliding closer to me. “You have done me a favor, Misayo. And I repay favors.”

Euphoric, I threw my arms around her neck, ignoring the stab of pain in my arm. I hugged her as hard as I possibly could. “Thank you! Oh… thank you so much!”

She hugged me back. I buried my face into the nape of her neck, inhaling her perfume. The scent made me dizzy and happy.

Eventually we separated, me smiling widely. “What’s your name?” I asked, my heart feeling light and airy

“My name is Tsuzuki no Sachijo.”

“Tsuzuki no Sachijo,” I whispered, a reverent tone unconsciously seeping into my voice. “Will you—will you really help me escape?”

Her smile broadened. “I never said I would do that.”

All at once, my hopes disappeared. I curled into myself, looking at her with a sinking feeling of despair. She was beautiful, like Nagamaru, but all she brought me was misery. “Why are you here, then? Go away!”

“Oh, Misayo-hime!” Her voice was reproachful. “Surely you can’t think I’m that cruel!”

“Then what are you here for?” 

“I won’t help you escape. But I can carry a message for you, to your family.”

“Really?” My hope was ignited. “If you are, then… tell them I’m alive. And ask them if they… ask them if they are all right. Ask them where they are, how they’re doing.”

She affected an exaggerated bow. “As you wish.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “…Thank you, Tsuzuki no Sachijo. I am in your debt.”

“Yes, you are, aren’t you?” she smiled at me, her golden eyes winking in the moonlight.

“Yes! Yes! As long as I’m able to communicate with them…” I bent on my knees, looking up at her reverently. 

“I won’t demand anything from you this time. I can see that you’re hurt.” Her eyes traced over the bloodstained bandages on my midriff. She straightened up. “But next time, I may not be so lenient. Remember.”

I didn’t want to ponder what she had planned for me for future encounters, but I couldn’t help but thank her for helping me. I bowed, pressing my forehead to the floor. I heard footsteps thump across the wooden floor, only to be replaced by the pad of fox’s paws, then nothing.


	18. Chapter 18

After a few days, Satsumi took me out.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to deal with the courts’ whispers and gossip very much, as she took me to the middle of the courtyard and immediately sat me down. She sat on my lap and babbled about the garden, what she did yesterday, her aunt. I looked at the flowers, the gardens, the ponds. I stroked her hair and smiled.

My mind was in another world. I wanted Tsuzuki no Sachijo to return, to give me news of my family. I didn’t care what I had to give her, as long as I was able to know about my family. All my beloved ones were in a situation beyond my knowledge, and the thought that I was able to talk with them, be it through a third party, was exhilarating. I even bounced Satsumi a little on my lap, as she talked and giggled.

“Misayo-hime! I didn’t expect to see you here.” The voice was an unwelcome wake-up call to me. I jerked out of my trance and glared at him.

Nagamaru was wearing his fur-lined kimono, mincing and immaculate as always. He walked over, throwing his hair behind his shoulder as he crouched next to me and Satsumi. “Oh, it looks like you’ve found yourself a little niece.”

“Stop teasing me, Oni,” I snapped, tightening my grip around Satsumi. The Oni girl craned her head and glared at him. “What do you want?” she said.

He sat beside me and laughed. I edged away from him, but he put a hand on my knee to stop me from moving away.

“Makkun has gone away,” he said.

I blinked. “Who?”

“Okaju Makaze! Commander of the Third Sect,” He said, impatient. “He’s gone away. And Mine-kun has gone too—although, he did complain a lot about having to go!”

“Where have they gone?” I demanded.

”Makkun went to fight the humans,” Nagamaru said airily. “And Mine-kun has been dishonored and sent home.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. So Nanazawa’s actions had indeed lead to repercussions.

“I heard about why Mine-kun was dismissed,” he said. “What an awful thing, to pluck a woman’s flower before she is ready.”

I felt bile rise in my throat as I heard his words. “You bastard… after what you did to me last night, you have no right—“

He cut me off with a laugh, and leaned sideways, nearly toppling me onto the ground. Satsumi grabbed for my shoulder, and let out a cry of protest. “Nagamaru! Stop it!”

He readjusted his position, chuckling. “Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry! I just lost my balance there for a minute!”

I grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled. His smug tone stopped abruptly, to be replaced with a screech of pain.

I let him go and he retreated, rubbing his scalp. I looked away from him, tightening my grip on Satsumi. A butterfly alighted on a hydrangea, its colorful wings flexing as it sought out the nectar.

“I have news of your father,” he said softly.

I snapped back immediately. “What?” I demanded. “What about him?” I leaned closer, my heart thumping.

He beamed. “I thought that might get your attention!” He leaned sideways again, resting his head on my shoulder. I hated his proximity. It made me sick. But I wanted to know about my father.

“Can I rest my head on your lap?” he said in a sickly sweet tone. I shuddered. I knew how he was taking advantage of me to just to humiliate me.

But, I nodded stiffly. He bent down and pillowed his head on my lap, sighing softly. Satsumi, sitting beside me, shook my shoulder. “Human girl, why are you letting him—“

“Ssh.” I held my finger to my lips, and used the other one to smooth her hair. “He’ll be off in a minute. Will you pick me some flowers? I’ll make you a _kanzashi_.”

Satsumi thought for a minute, then, apparently agreeing, she leapt up and ran away into the garden. As her footsteps faded, I turned my attention to the man lying in my lap.

“Now, tell me about my—“

“Stroke my head.”

He was ordering me now. His eyes were closed, but he was smiling. Gritting my teeth, I smoothed his hair, running my fingernails through his locks. His hair was silky and smooth, like one of my maidservant's. He clearly took good care of his appearance, unlike Nanazawa and his ragged ponytail.

“Tell me,” I whispered. If he wasn’t going to tell me right this instant, I was going to stand up and let him fall into the pond.

He shifted to make himself more comfortable. “Well,” he said. “I heard that he’s fighting in the east now. He’s doing quite well, all things considered. He’s been successful against my compatriots, comparatively—after all, he is just a human.”

I let my face break out in a smile. I had been worried about my father, whether he was even alive or not. Even if the news came from the mouth of a man like Nagamaru, I was greatly relieved.

His ruby-bright eyes found mine, and narrowed. “And another thing, I almost forgot! He’s fighting Makkun, our very own Okaju-sama!”

The news shocked me. My entire body went cold. I felt my jaw tense. “M-My own father? He’s fighting… he’s fighting that man?”

“Yes! I heard Okaju arrived very recently, and their forces are going to battle with each other. I do hope your father survives. Makkun is quite a renowned warrior.”

I felt as if my heart had stopped beating. I stared at him for a few seconds, at the gloating smile on his face. My father. Okaju. The thought of two men I knew pitted against each other. I had no reason to doubt that my father would hold his own against him. Even if my father was a little slack when it came to discipline, his men loved him enough. He had survived one Oni attack. Why wouldn’t he survive more?

The more I thought about it, the happier I became. Of course, I could look forward to him slaying Okaju. From what I had seen of the white-haired Oni and his men, they hadn’t been well disciplined. They had stood by and cheered while Nanazawa mutilated one of their own comrades. Even if he was an Oni, and my father was a human, my father was the one with better trained men. I was becoming more confident by the minute. Tactics beat strength, someone—maybe my father— had told me a long time ago.

“Human girl!” A high, piping voice came to my ears. I looked up. Satsumi ran toward me, her arms filled with flowers. “You have to make me a _kanzashi_ now!”

I smiled, getting up. Nagamaru jerked his head off, getting up on his hands and knees. He looked at me, confused. I was sure he was expecting a more distressed reaction.

I ignored him. He would be the one fretting when my father won.

“Come now, Satsumi. Let’s go back to my rooms, and I’ll make you a _kanzashi_.”


	19. Chapter 19

Weeks passed. I stayed up late, waiting for Tsuzuki no Sachijo to visit me. Nagamaru came to visit me sometimes, licking me, touching me. Although it was horrible every time he came upon me, I knew that the act he most wished he could do upon me beyond him. I could tell every time he licked me between my legs, every time his length rose with desire when he saw me gasping and wailing. He was unable to take my body for his own. And I ridiculed him for that.

The wound on my belly healed. Although I sustained more, on my neck and face and thighs, the most serious of my injuries was gone. It healed around the edges, then scabbed over. Perhaps Nagamaru knew if he bothered it anymore, it could become infected. He compensated by sucking and biting my skin, causing red marks that were visible whenever I walked out of the room. The noblemen and women pointed and stared at me, as they always did, and it hurt, but they were just Oni. I would be leaving here soon, to go home. Nagamaru’s abuse, even Satsumi sneaking into my bed at night and sucking my breast, as she often did—they would all be a thing of the past.

One night, Nagamaru had come and rutted against me through the fabric of my kimono. I could feel his hardness against me, hear his obscene whispers, and it nearly drove me to despair. But I held out. Even when Satsumi came, and asked me what the white liquid on my breasts was, and licked my neck and buried her small fingers in my slit, I did not fall. When she finally left, sleepy and rubbing her eyes, I waited by the lantern, my pussy throbbing.

Pussy. It was something I could no longer ignore, something I could no longer stuff with cloths when my time of the month came and forget about. It had been used by a man, and licked by another one. It had been fingered by a young girl.

It ached sometimes, and I was forced to put my own fingers on it. I couldn’t help it. Before, it had been a place where I wasn’t supposed to touch. It was taboo. Good girls, respectable girls didn’t do that. But I couldn’t help it. I sat against the wall and touched myself, rubbing my clit, digging my fingers into myself. It calmed me, it excited me.

I looked at my fingers, stained with viscous fluid, thick and sticky. It seemed so degenerate, to pleasure myself. But with all the attention I received from Nagamaru and Satsumi, I couldn’t help it. Although I hated their attention, what they did to me alighted a fire in my belly that couldn’t be extinguished.

I leaned against the wall, my eyes drooping. The flames flickered and waved, casting patterns on the wall. Soon I was struggling to stay awake, waiting for the kitsune to appear. My eyes drooped, but I kept my gazed fixed on the opposite wall.

The forest was black. Dark. The trees nearly blocked out the moon, only minute slivers of the light shining onto the ground. I stumbled over a tree’s roots, hearing the sounds of nighttime animals crying.

A whiteness, distant in the black. It came toward me like flurry of snow, the white dress of the woman a beacon in the darkness.

It was Suzume. Her thighs were stained with red, soaking into her kimono. Her hair was wild, covering her eyes, her shoulders. She opened her mouth and screamed, the sound filling the forest with its ungodly sound. She reached for me, her long fingers locked around my neck.

Her white kimono shimmered and shone in the moonlight. Her eyes were wild, feral. She wailed, and I stared at her. Her eyes despaired, her body swayed. She had a family. I had known, her mother and sister had lived in the village. We had not interacted much—they had been as shy as she had been. But they had cared for her. I had seen her mother hug her once, weeping. And Suzume had smiled, the expression seeing to light up her entire face.

I knew little about Suzume, except for that. She never told me anything. A quiet girl. But I wondered how her mother and sister had been doing, whether they had been alive or not. Had they been attacked by the Oni, as I had? Did they know their daughter was dead?

I woke. My eyes were still trained on the white wall opposite me. The shadows danced. I waited.

Eventually, a shadow fell on the wall. It was of a woman, her kimono obscuring her figure, her face set in a seductive smile. “Do you want to hear about your family?” she said.

I lay down. My wound was healed enough that I could move without it paining me. She stood above me.

To make love to a woman was something I could have never comprehended. But she taught me how this was possible.

She lay over me, our breasts pressed against each other. Her naked bodies were in contact, and we wrapped our legs around each other. Our clits rubbed, our cores pressed together, giving me stimulation I had never felt before. _If women are able to do this, what is the use for men?_ I thought deliriously as she thrust against me. Besides procreation, women could provide all the sexual pleasure we needed. She dipped a finger in my honey, licked it off, all the time her eyes boring into mine. I whined, I asked her for more, but she giggled and sat back. “Don’t you want to know about your family?” she said.

I sat up, trying to ignore the arousal that welled up inside me. “Tell me,” I gasped, my hand going between my legs to attempt to finish off my orgasm. Her slender fingers joined mine, crushing my clit, spurring me into a sudden climax. I stared at the ceiling, her mature body overlaying mine. Her breasts were full and heavy, unlike mine, which were still small as apples, despite my age. She pinched my nipples, sucking them, playing with them, I felt the desire spike through my body, and dug a finger between her legs. She gasped and laughed, and we embraced, kissing.

After all was said and done, we lay beside one another, watching the lamp make shadows on the walls. Her breath huffed over my ear, her seductive voice spoke.  
“Don’t you want to know about your family?” She said.

I nodded vigorously. She spoke. _“Misayo-hime!”_ she said, in a perfect imitation of Sakue’s voice. _“I am so relieved… I love you so much. I am glad to hear that you are alive. I have spent many nights worrying about you. Please tell me, how are you? We are all concerned, especially your mother._  
 _We are all well, save for the ones who died in the invasion. We miss them terribly. Our doorman, poor Haruki, has died of his injuries. Kaemi is healthy, although she asks about you often. Emie is getting married now, to a farmer. They will have their wedding soon. The rest of us are trying to rebuild our home, although it is very hard. We are staying with the villagers for the time being.”_

I felt a wave of relief fall over me. Sakue, our other servants were all right. The memory of those who had died in the attack still haunted me, but at least I could rest sure with the knowledge that the rest of my household was safe.

“Tell her that I am well,” I said. “But I wish to come home as soon as possible. I am overjoyed that they are well. I look forward to the day when I can be reunited with them. Give Emie my congratu…”

But a sudden revelation stopped me. Emie was getting married. My precious little sister was becoming a woman. My little Emie, forever a little child in my eyes, was…

She was moving on.

The words seemed to be branded in my mind. The fear that while I was gone my maidservants would forget me, go on with their lives, was becoming a reality.

I bowed my head, wrapping my arms around myself. I nearly didn’t hear Tsuzuki no Sachijo speak until she nudged my arm. “Misayo-hime. What’s wrong? I thought you would be happy to hear they’re all right.”

“N-No…” I whispered. “It’s just, my little maidservant, Emie. She’s getting married. She’s moving on. She’s just… forgetting me.”

“And?” The kitsune woman’s voice took on a sharp tone that I hadn’t heard before. “What is she supposed to do? Wait like a ghost while you’re away for weeks and months? As far as she knows, she might never see you again.”

“That’s not true! Emie’s my maidservant, she’s supposed to—“

“Supposed to, supposed to, supposed to. The world doesn’t revolve around you, you know. I’m sure Emie has her own wants and needs.”

I stared at the floor, refusing to meet her gaze. She was wrong. I was Emie’s family. She had no idea what she was talking about. She didn’t even know Emie!

Tsuzuki no Sachijo sighed. “You nobles are so self-centered. It’s always about you, you, you.” With that, she leapt lightly to her feet, and with the light pawsteps of a fox, left my room.

I stayed where I was, my gaze fixed firmly on the floor. I was still wet, the fluids of our lovemaking covering my body. I wiped off my thighs and my mouth in sudden disgust, ashamed of the pleasure I had felt.

First Emie… would the rest of my maidservants find husbands as well? This was just what I had been afraid of. I was being forgotten. I was being left behind.

Emie had her own life, she did… but to set me aside… but, she was my maidservant! She couldn’t just…

I was so confused. Wiping my face, I let my head thud down onto my futon. I stared at the ceiling, arms crossed over my chest. I didn’t want to think about it anymore.


	20. Chapter 20

_“Fate,” said Kaeko, “Is something you can’t ignore.”_

_I stared at her, the rice plant I was shelling lying forgotten in my hands. “What do you mean?”_

_She was still picking the grains out of her plant, dropping them in a basket. “I think some people like to delude themselves.”_

_“Kaeko, you’re not making sense.” Mareko shifted her basket to the side, filled, and took another empty one to start shelling rice into._

_“Just listen to me.” In any other voice, her words would have sounded agitated. But she was calm, reasonable. “You heard about Chieko, didn’t you?”_

_“Kaeko!” I was horrified. “Don’t be disrespectful!”_

_“I’m not.” She never stopped working, not through any of this. “It was awful, that she died. But I’m just saying… if her parents had listened to her, then maybe…”_

_“They had work to do,” said Sakue. “They needed to farm.”_

_“They could have listened to her,” Kaeko said, her voice taking on an uncharacteristically harsh tone. “She had been feeling sick. If they had let her stay at home, maybe she could have recovered.”_

_“What’s done is done,” said Sakue. “She’s dead now.”_

_“I was at her burial, Sakue-san. They were crying. They were so broken about her death.” Kaeko’s voice had softened a bit, although her words were no less piercing. “They paid no attention. It was as if they were blameless. But they knew she was sick. They knew she was dying.”_

_“There was a chance she could get better,” I said. “Sometimes people survive these illnesses…”_

_“No.” Kaeko stopped shelling rice for a moment, looking at me. Her eyes burned with an intensity I had never seen. “If there is a chance that the worst could happen… then you should be prepared. You should expect it.”_

“How naïve you were, Misayo. To think everything would turn out all right in the end,” said Nagamaru.

He was right. As much as I was loathe to admit it, he and Kaeko had the same point. Even as the evidence stacked up, as the odds tipped further in favor of my enemies, I still hoped. And to hope was the worst thing I could have done.

If I had expected, I could have planned. I could have had an idea of what would happen to me. I could not have just surrounded myself in oblivion.

The day was bright. The sun shone in through my window onto my face, and I blinked my eyes and buried my face under my covers, like any other day. I was ashamed to admit that fact, that waking up in that bare room was becoming routine to me, but it had. I only truly awoke when the maidservant came in, her voice ringing in the silent room. “Hime, the Queen requests your presence.”

I sat up, my drowsiness immediately receding from my mind. This might be it. My father could have won. Shivering in excitement, I let her dress me, then I followed her down the hallway to the court chamber.

Crowded. Nagamaru was there, winking at me from the sidelines. I barely paid any attention to him, more unnerved by the presence of Nanazawa, concealed as he was behind the crowd but still visible. He had his arms crossed, and his golden eyes were locked on the entrance on the other side of the hall. I followed his gaze, kneeling on the ground. Murmurs abounded. “Okaju-sama” was a frequent mention. That made me more excited. Had he died? The fearful, reverent tone was enough to encourage me.

The crowd went silent as a familiar white-haired figure appeared into view. In one hand, he clutched a bag. He looked more haggard than usual, numerous half-healed scars covering his face and arms. But his eyes were just as focused, just as intense as I’d first saw them. They flicked to mine and stayed focused on me for an uncomfortably long time, before he transferred them to the Queen and kept them there.

“My Queen.” He knelt, pressing his forehead into the floor. “I have come bearing good news.”

That set off alarms in my head. I should have paid more attention to them. But, I thought. It was just confirmation of what I’d thought. My father had surrendered, with me as collateral. I would be sent home that very same day.

“We have fought long and hard. Our forces have strived for months.” His voice did not raise an octave. My heart soared.

“We have defeated our enemies. Lord Ashikage is dead. I come bearing proof of his death.”

What…?

He held out the bag. His hand dove inside it. And as he drew it out, I saw… I saw…

The expression on his face was so uncharacteristic of him. My father was always a gentle person. My mother always said I had inherited that from him. Just looking at his face made me feel peaceful.

His chin was covered with weeks-old stubble. His eyes were wide open, staring at nothing, his mouth contorted in a scream of pain. His head had been cut off, the part where it had been sliced jagged and rough. I could see that his blood had drained out, his head as pale as if it had been powdered with makeup. He had been in the bag for a long time.

I looked at my father’s decomposing head. The flesh had begun to rot, just a little bit. His face was sallow. Some of his hair was falling out.

I thought of him bending down to me, pressing his cheek against mine. His smiling face, his kind words. His strong arms encircling me, protecting me.

“I have brought you the head of our greatest enemy. He is no more.” He held up my father’s head by his hair.

The queen looked over this spectacle. Her expression did not change one bit. “Okaju, you have done well.”

How could her face not change? How could her face not change one bit? That was my father.

“You deserve to be promoted. What you have done has pleased me greatly.”

“Father!”

My voice resonated throughout the hall. All eyes turned on me. I was running forward, snatching the decapitated head into my arms.

He was so light. I had tried to lift my father once. It was just after the first time I had held his sword. “Misayo, you can’t wield my sword. You’re too small.” I had lifted it with trembling hands, managing, despite my father’s doubts, to hold it up.

_“Misayo, you’re so strong!” He patted my head. His smile was as bright as the sun. I was delighted. I was drunk on his approval. I wrapped my hands around his waist and strained._

_He was too heavy. I couldn’t lift him. I gave up, sitting down on the ground. Ashamed, I hid my face in the sleeves of my kimono._

_My father’s hands settled on my shoulders. “Misayo, don’t be embarrassed,” he said. “You’re just a little girl. When you grow up big and strong, you’ll be able to fight with a naginata. You’ll be able to fight off whoever attacks this house. And you’ll even be able to lift me.”_

_“When I grow up, I’m going to carry you everywhere,” I swore to him, and brightened up as my father laughed._

I can hold you up, Father. Just like I said I could.


	21. Chapter 21

I fell on my back hard, stars exploding in front of my eyes as I was slammed onto the floor. Nagamaru’s face hovered in front of me, mocking, laughing. His hands gripped my kimono, ripping it open.

A rough voice sounded. “Get your hands off of her, you pathetic little flower. She’s mine, not yours.”

“Mine-kun!” Nagamaru looked up at the glowering Oni, beaming. “I thought after your disownment you wouldn’t even attempt to show your face here.”

“Get away from her,” he said. “She has no use anymore as a hostage. I’m taking her as my wife.”

“Now, now, that’s awfully rude.” Nagamaru wagged a finger at Nanazawa. His knees hugged each side of my waist, pinning me in place. If I had tried to wriggle free, I couldn’t have. “We both have a claim to her, do we not? You were the one who took her first. But I am the one who can more easily marry her, given my position. Remember, Nanazawa Minehiro. You are nothing but a bastard.”

Nanazawa’s face distorted. His hand went to the sword at his waist.

In a moment, Nagamaru was up and off me, the tip of his katana pointed at the red-haired Oni’s throat. “Don’t.” his voice had lost his playful lilt. “I’m giving you a chance, and you should take it.”

I was crawling to the back of the wall, feebly attempting to cover myself with my kimono. All the strength in my limbs had left me. My arms felt like stalks of brittle grass, and my legs were barely working. I pressed my forehead against the cold wood of the wall.

My entire body was fighting me to go limp. My mind was numb. I was only vaguely aware of the fight going on behind me. I could hear words, though, sharp and piercing my ears.

“I took her first. You shouldn’t even want her.”

“She defeated me. I’ve got as much right to her as you do.”

“She’s mine. I won’t let you touch her. I’ll fight you.”

“Nanazawa, be reasonable. Two men can share a woman. Neither of us have to marry her. We just have to share her.” Nagamaru had taken on a persuading tone. “I could very easily take her away from you. I’m a powerful court samurai. But I’m giving you a chance… and if you don’t agree right now, I’m not going to let you have her.”

“You…”

“It’s your choice, Mine-kun. Three…Two…One…”

“All right! All right!” His yell made me flinch. “I’ll share her with you! Just let me fuck her first.”

I was vaguely aware of hands grabbing me, pushing me onto the floor. A body pushing itself between my legs, and harsh breathing in my ear. It seemed far away, somehow, as if I were looking through a glass window.

But I couldn’t escape from the sensations I was feeling. Being penetrated without preparation, tearing through my dry channel, made me cry out with agony.

“Nanazawa!” Nagamaru chided, his voice outraged. “To do that to a woman, without loving her first! For shame!”

Nagamaru pressed his finger onto my clit, rubbing it in circles so flares of pleasure began heating my waist, and I began to get slick, making his brutal thrusts slide easier. Nanazawa bent over me, slamming his body harder and harder, his member reaching so deep I felt a spark of terror ignite within me. A sharp stab of pain pierced me as he reached the mouth of my womb, and I writhed, kicking out in an attempt to dislodge him. But he gripped my hips, thrusting as hard as he possibly could. I could hear his heavy breathing, mixed with the sultry laughter of Nagamaru.

It hurt.

It hurt—

He climaxed with a gasp, his warm liquid contaminating my insides. He pulled away.

I was so tired. All I wanted to do was to be alone, to mourn the death of my father.

Nagamaru took Nanazawa’s place between my legs, pressing his laughing face right up against mine. I could feel the head of his member, rubbing against my entrance. I had already been violated once tonight, would I have to endure another? I was sobbing. I didn’t care that they saw me. My tears ran down my cheeks, and my shrill wails echoed off of the wooden walls of the room. 

Nagamaru was more considerate, but that was worse. He went slowly, giving me time to feel pleasure. He rubbed my core with his fingers as he thrust deep inside, licked and kissed my mouth as Nanazawa sucked and bit my breasts. The flares of pain in my chest made me cross my arms over my breasts, but Nanazawa pushed my arms away, his fangs digging deep into the sensitive flesh of my nipples. The light pink turned dark red as he bit harder, and when he pulled his head away, my breasts were bruised with his teethprints. 

Nagamaru ground his hips forward in slow motions, his fingernails plucking my clit, his attention countering the pain Nanazawa gave me. Every rub, stroke of his fingertips made me arch my back, my body already indoctrinated to the pleasure he gave me.

Pleasure and pain. Pleasure and pain.

Nagamaru gyrating his hips, the gasps of his arousal and the grunts of Nanazawa as he bit and honed his teeth on my body, it all became the music to which I would spend my nights to.


	22. Chapter 22

“Why me?” I asked Tsuzuki no Sachijo. “Of all people, why did you choose me? I gave you food. But surely many other people have as well. Why did you decide to follow me?”

“Perhaps it was a passing fancy, Hime.”

“Then why are you still here? I have no use anymore. I have no more life to live. I have no future.”

“Is that so? Is that what you really think?”

“Why would you think otherwise? I am a slave of the Oni now. I’m never going home.”

“You have a fate, Hime. You are correct in saying I had a reason for choosing you. In time, you will be very important. In time.”

With those words, she vanished. When I awoke, I wondered if it had been a dream. It probably was. She never appeared to me again after that. I had lost her interest, I supposed. Perhaps I really was just a passing fancy.

Days I loved, nights I despised. Nights was when the torture began. I tried to let my mind go when it was night, but it was hard. The claws that dug into my flesh made me cry with pain. The pleasure that made me arch my back made me cower with shame. In the day, I could ignore my tormentors, I could fight against them. But at night, there was no fighting. They could hurt me as much as they wanted.

In time, the court would forget about me. And then, even in the daytime I would not be safe. I would truly be a slave of the Oni.

Sometimes I sat and stared at the wall, at the swirls and patterns ingrained into the wood. My mind turned white, became blank of all thoughts. When I came to, hours had passed. I didn’t know how I had sunk into this stupor, nor did I want to find out. This was all I had to dull my pain,

One day, Okaju called upon me.

I sat opposite him as a servant girl poured us tea. The smell wafting from the cups disturbed my senses, calming me. I didn’t want to be calm. I wanted to look Okaju in the eye, confront him, make him face all the miseries my family had gone through. But instead I sat, my knees drawn under me demurely as I looked at the tea I had been given. I heard his voice speak.

“Misayo-hime.” He was the only one who called me Misayo-hime now. Now I was just “Human girl” or “Misayo”.

“I fought your father in battle. I stood opposite him. He faced me without fear, without restraint. A truly magnificent warrior.”

I will show you a truly magnificent warrior. I will show you my revenge for my father. If I had a naginata in my hand, I would behead you.

“He asked me…”

What did he ask you?

“He lay bleeding, and grasped my feet…”

What a lie. My father would never prostate himself before another.

“And begged me…”

My father would never beg!

“...To keep his daughter safe. To shield her from harm.”

“…My father would never beg an enemy to protect me. He has pride. My family has pride…!” I wasn’t sure whether I was talking to him or myself. I wasn’t sure my words were my own or just remnants of my fragmented thoughts.

“He died in front of me, on the ground.”

I imagined my father’s body, lying on the muddy dirt, devoid of a warrior’s funeral, just an anonymous death in the war of the Oni and the humans. I imagined Okaju bending down, his sword flashing, my father’s head laying separated from the rest of his body. Blood stained the dark ground, soaking into the soil, forever becoming a part of the earth. Okaju lifted my father’s head, his face cool and impassive. My father’s soft dark eyes were glazed over, staring over the battlefield of blood where his brothers-in-arms lay slain.

I felt a hand on my own. It was slender and pale, with long, sharp fingernails. It was trembling slightly.

“Misayo-hime… I am sorry. Your father… he asked of me something I could never fulfill. He was a strong and true warrior, a worthy opponent, but, but the court is powerful, the queen’s wishes absolute, and…”

He was babbling now. The man I had known, the one who had cold-heartedly slaughtered my house, let Suzume be violated by his soldiers, threatened to let me defiled by his men. His voice was shaking, his voice high as a child’s.

“They said your fate was none of their responsibility anymore. I am sorry… the wish your father bestowed upon me could not be fulfilled. Your father was an honorable warrior. He was...”

“He was my father.” I whispered, and he did not listen. He spoke of his feelings, of the honor of the man who had fought him. He did not listen to me, until I raised my voice.

“You killed my father!” My scream reverberated around the room, and he stopped talking in shock. “You… you killed... my father!”

My father, Ashikage Aritomo, had been the only the hope I had. He had been favored by the Emperor. He had been the parent of my life who had held me tight in his warm arms, had presided over me with his smiling face. If my mother had taught me how to be strong, my father had taught me how to be kind. His smiling face, inches from mine, presided in my memories, his warm arms enveloping mine.

This man had taken it all away.

I gripped his arms in mine, feeling his muscles tense under my hands. I pushed him over onto the floor. His face was shocked, but I pressed down, my fingernails digging into the flesh of his shoulders through his kimono.

“I am never going to see my father again. You took his life… left his body to rot away in a mass grave under the bodies of his comrades. You brought his head here like some _trophy_. Does your queen keep it in her chamber? Does she place it among her other favored possessions? Or did she toss it away like it was a soiled bit of fabric?”

All the anger I had not been able to release was boiling up inside me. “You deprived him of a simple warrior’s funeral, mutilated him like an animal. My only… my only… my father!” Tears were dripping from my eyes now, and he winced as the hot splashed his skin. My lower lip curled, I was sobbing. “How could you? How could you have done… how…”

I already knew the answer the question. Okaju was a warrior. He had probably been a warrior since he was young. He had killed dozens of men. Why would my father be any different?

But I was sitting here, in front of my father’s killer. How could I not demand an answer?

How could he kill?

Again, the answer came to me. _I_ had been prepared to kill. _I_ would have killed if I hadn’t been stopped. _I_ had held Nanazawa under the water and watched his face twist as he struggled for breath, fully aware and content in the knowledge that I was killing him.

But I had a reason. Nanazawa had raped me, killed my friend, looted my house. He had a very specific hatred for me, and I for him. Aritomo Ashikage… he had not known Makaze Okaju. Okaju had no knowledge of him other than that he was enemy. Yet he had slaughtered him, ripped his head from his body, and brought it back as a trophy…

Like me.

The last thing my father had done was beg Okaju to take care of me. Even in his last moments, he was worried about me. And now here I was, a trophy of war, being fucked each night by two men, useless except for my purpose as a sex slave. In fact, I was probably lucky it was just two men. I was lucky that I was even alive.

I didn’t… I didn’t deserve this. This shouldn’t have been my fate. _My mother did not give birth to me for me to become a plaything of men._

“Misayo-hime, I—“

I slapped him across the face. The contact of my skin against mine, the way his head jerked sideways, the way his eyes flashed with pain, it all made a rush of pleasure spread through me.

“You have no excuse. You’re just a warrior man… you care nothing for the people you’ve killed.”

“So had your father. How many of my compatriots has he killed? He—“

“Shut up!” I hit him again, hearing his moan of pain. Anger was swamping me, boiling up inside my body. “You’re stronger than he is! How any humans have you killed? How many families have you destroyed?”

His eyes fluttered shut. I struck him again. “Answer me!”

I could feel a hard pressure against my thigh. For a moment I wondered if it was a dagger in his pocket, then my mind caught up to me.

“Are you getting aroused with me on top of you, you dog? Are you getting off of me humiliating you?” I was smiling. I didn’t know why. I could feel the intoxicating sensation of a cock against me, and instead of having it violating me, it was worshipping me, taught against my body. I spread my legs until they hugged his waist, and the hard pressure directly against my core made me gasp. It made him gasp as well, and a hot flush stained his cheeks. Or perhaps it was just the red mark from when I slapped him.

No matter. I leaned over him until our noses were almost touching. “Are you a little shy, Okaju? Feeling a little faint right now?” I taunted, my fists tightening on the fabric of his kimono. I pulled it from his body, exposing his pale skin. I pinched his nipple hard, watching the pale pink turn an angry red.

He wasn’t fighting back. I saw his brow furrow with pain, his muscles tense under mine, but he didn’t reach up and push me off. He lay where he was, passive and supine. I grit my jaw. Why was he doing this?

“I’m sor—“

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” I hissed, and instead of slapping him this time, I reached between his legs and gripped him hard. He stiffened, and his member swelled. I dug my thumbnail into its underside, and finally he let out a plaintive cry.

But he didn’t fight back. Nor did he beg me to stop.

Not even when I ripped open his pants and mounted him. I felt his head brush against my opening, and the sensation made moisture spring inside me like a well. I rubbed him between my lower lips, the feeling making my belly tighten.

I was thinking of just teasing him, not giving him any satisfaction, but I didn’t think I would last that long. I wanted to take my pleasure. I wanted to use him as I had been used by his brother and the insane court samurai. His eyelids were closed, but flickering. I pinched his cheek until my nails cut into the flesh and a droplet of blood made its way down his face. “Come on. Look at me.”

He opened his eyes, and I saw tears swimming in the corners. Anger at his lack of resistance was once again replaced by that feeling, that surge of pleasure deep inside me. It bubbled up, overtook me, made my gaze hazy. I thrust my hips down, and accepted him into myself.

The sudden shock of having him inside me made me sway, made me grasp his shoulders for support. I was fucking the man who had murdered my father. It almost made me pull myself off of him, but the look on his face was too titillating. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his face was transfixed in a rictus of pain. I was causing the utmost pain to my father’s killer.

The thought sent another tremor through my body. My hips arched forward, taking him deeper into my passage. My mind was swimming, shocks of heat spreading through me with each thrust. I impaled myself on him, bending over so that our foreheads touched as he came ever deeper inside me.

The pleasure was too much, building to a peak inside me but not finishing off. I teetered on the edge of climax for a moment, then my hands went down to finish it. I rubbed my core frantically, gasping, sweat pouring from my brow. I tightened around him, my entire body spasming as I came. My gaze blurred, my nipples hardened, and the ground-shaking pleasure that swept me nearly made me black out.

And then it was over. The heat was fading to a comfortable warmth inside me, and Okaju was gasping under me. I slid off him, feeling liquid drip down my thighs as I sat on the floor.

I sat there for a few moments, my forehead bowed, my breaths coming in harsh pants. Then I stood up and walked to the door.

I slid it open and stepped out, never looking back.


	23. Chapter 23

I was sick.

The moment I opened my eyes, I felt the nausea well within me. I crawled on my hands and knees over the floor, trying to reach the door to call someone, but I didn’t last that long. The smooth floor was stained with my foul-smelling vomit, and I pressed my arm to my mouth, trying to stop the flow. 

I heard a rustling behind me. “Misayo …” I heard Nagamaru coo. “Why don’t you come back to us? It’s so warm here.”

I barely paid attention to him. The waves of sickness rose up within me, overwhelming me. The maid eventually came in and cleaned up my mess, her face vaguely frightened and disgusted. 

Nagamaru’s hand was on my shoulder. “What’s wrong, Misayo? Are you not feeling well?” 

“No…” It was probably the meat I ate the other night. I straightened up, wiping my mouth. I still felt faintly nauseous, but the feeling had receded. I took a deep breath and let it out. 

Nagamaru pulled me back to bed. I didn’t even try to resist. I knew it was useless.

I felt myself become sicker each day. Throughout the day I was struck with nausea. The maidservant cleaned it up, but she didn’t look me in the eye, and she left as soon as she was done.

I longed for another woman to talk to. Even Tsuzuki no Sachijo. 

Satsumi couldn’t know how I felt. She was still immature, her body undeveloped. She had not become a woman yet. When she pressed against me and sucked my breast, she did so as a child.

I didn’t want to admit what was happening to me.

“Human girl, your nipples are sensitive today,” said Nanazawa, pulling at my breast mercilessly. I half-heartedly tried to defend them with my hands, but he easily pulled them away.

I winced as he pinched and sucked at my breast. Indeed, I was feeling more sensitive. Whenever he touched my nipple, it felt as if a dagger was pricking at its tip.

I was tired. I was tired all the time. 

“I don’t feel well,” I protested as Nagamaru attempted to mount me. “Leave me alone.”

“I want to make love to you,” he protested, as if ‘making love’ was a suitable word for what he was about to do to me.

“I feel like I’m going to vomit.”

“You’ve been feeling like that for weeks. Let me just… come on, just a little bit…”

“No!” I really had no idea why he was even asking me. If he wanted, he could have just fucked me. But Nagamaru liked to take his time, liked to kiss me and stroke between my legs until I got wet. And even then, when he finally fucked me, he did it slowly, so slowly I begged for him to just get on with it, to just finish and leave me alone. But he didn’t, just smiled smugly and keep thrusting, gripping my legs and pressing deeper, deeper, so deep I wanted to scream.

Just remembering it made me wince and draw my legs together.

“I’m definitely going to vomit,” I said, and he finally pulled away.

“You’ve been feeling very sick lately,” said Nanazawa, opening an eye. I had thought he had been asleep. “Perhaps I should call a physician.”

“Just leave it,” I said, pressing my face into the cool pillow. But he took no notice.

“One would think you’re faking in order to get out of coupling with us.”

I heard Nagamaru snort. “She’s not faking anything, Nanazawa. She’s pregnant, that’s all.”

That’s all it took. The words I had been denying all along crashed down on me. For a moment, I was thousands of miles away, my mind so removed I couldn’t hear, see, or feel anything that happened to me. My limbs were slack, my mind floating somewhere above the earth. No. No. No.

All at once, my body was pulled back to earth as Nanazawa yanked my hair. “Did you hear what I said, human girl?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t even feel my usual rush of fury at his mistreatment of me. My body reacted instinctively, trying to pull itself away from me, but he just gripped harder. “Tell me! Are you pregnant?”

“She can’t know.” Nagamaru folded his arms, prissy and dismissive. “How can she? She’s a human. They don’t educate their women about anything.”

That was a lie, of course. I had taught myself, with Kaeko. I knew the symptoms of pregnancy. I just didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want to admit that I was… I was…

“Shut up, flower,” the red-haired Oni snarled, but he let go of me and I crawled backwards, my scalp aching. 

No. No. No.

I couldn’t be pregnant. I couldn’t… I looked down at my flat belly. Naked as I was, it didn’t even have a slight curve. “I am not,” I said, and it was strange how calm my voice was. “I am not pregnant.”

“Yes, you are. You’ve been feeling sick for a while. Your breasts have been hurting. And you’ve been sleeping all day.” Nagamaru sounded bored, although I could detect a tremor of excitement underneath his tone. 

“Shut up!” I screamed, so suddenly that Nanazawa flinched back. “I am not... I will not carry your children!”

“Stop trying to deny it,” said Nagamaru, in that infuriating, self-superior way of his. “Just accept the fact. You’re going to give birth.”

My worst fears, my worst nightmares had come true. The worries I had carried within me, ever since Nanazawa had forced me by the lake, had come to a horrifying head. I carried a child. The child of the beings that had raped me, killed my friends, and burned my home to the ground. 

Before I knew quite what I was doing, I was tearing at my belly, sinking my jagged nails deep into the sensitive flesh. I was aware of the pain, dagger-sharp tunnels of fire erupting across my skin. My arms were yanked away, angry voices shouting in my ears. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I was screaming.


	24. Chapter 24

 

I had held Kaemi throughout my childhood. I had seen her cry, seen her laugh, held her to my breast, watched her first steps. During Sakue’s pregnancy, I had been with her every step of the way, watching and sharing. We had laughed and embraced each other when little Kaemi had moved inside her, eager to see her born into this world.

Right now, I wondered how that had been possible.

Now the thought of pregnancy filled me with revulsion. I wanted to reach inside myself and tear the burgeoning life from my womb.

I didn’t want to give birth. I didn’t. I didn’t! I had reached inside of myself, in those early days, trying to scratch out the early life that was clinging to my inside.

They stopped me, of course. Maidservants with their clawing touch, tearing my hands from between my legs.

After a while, I calmed down. I lay on my side, sobbing occasionally, my hands clamped around my belly. The maidservants watched me, but offhandedly, knowing that I was now sane enough not to attempt to self-abort.

I needed herbs. Otherwise, I would not be able to miscarry. If I had tried to physically induce a miscarriage, I would have been stopped. They watched me, all the time. If not the maidservants, then Nanazawa and Nagamaru.

“I hope it’s a girl,” said Nagamaru. “I’d love to have a baby girl to dress up.”

I was sitting, supported by Nanazawa, who had his arm around my waist. Nagamaru was somewhere to my left, happily chatting.

“I want a boy,” Nanazawa interrupted. “If I had a boy, he would be a warrior. He would be able to stay with me. I would teach him all I knew.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Nagamaru. “A boy would just be killed in battle. It’s better to have a girl. Then she can stay in the court. My mother had three other sons. Do you know what happened to them? Dead, all of them.”

“What does that mean?” I asked. “Are all boys made to fight?” I wriggled out of Nanazawa’s grip, grasping my hands over my swelling belly.

“Boys born out of wedlock enter the military,” said Nagamaru. “Boys born within marriage are under the control of their mother. If you have a girl, legitimate or illegitimate, it will stay with you. But if an illegitimate boy is born, the father’s mother controls it. They choose to send it to battle.”

“Always?” I asked. If I were to bear a child, a boy, than a lifetime fighting my own kind would not be a fate I wished to sentence it to.

“Always,” Nagamaru told me. “What good is a man anyway, than to fight? We have queens to rule. We have women to make laws. And we have too many children of born out wedlock! Why not send the other boys to go die for us?”

“Don’t say that,” growled Nanazawa. “I am an illegitimate child. I fight against our enemies. I am worth something!”

“Oh yes, and we all see what a valuable member of society you are…”

“Shut up!” Nanazawa was shouting again.

I sat up, not wanting another shouting match to begin between them. Their loud voices bothered me, made me want to bury my head beneath my pillow. “Calm down. Whether it’s a boy or a girl, it won’t change. It’s already in my belly. Stop fighting.” I didn’t want to hear the yelling, the fighting, the stress. Arguments just made it worse.

Thankfully, Nanazawa relented, and slumped back. I could tell he was angry, the same way you could tell a cat had been fighting by the flattening of its ears and the tensing of its body. His muscles were taught, his eyes tight and livid, but he made no movement.

I leaned backward again with a sigh. Nagamaru put a hand on my belly, his nails sinking slightly into the soft flesh. “Boy or girl, it’s going to be a lovely baby. I wonder what it’s going to look like. I’ve never seen a human and Oni hybrid before.”

“I’ve never seen them, either,” said Nanazawa. “Mostly the mothers choose to kill them, if they give birth to them.”

***

One day, when I was fruitlessly rearranging the lilies in my vase, I felt it move.

Just a small twitch.

I dropped what I was doing, crouching, my hands on my midriff.

It didn’t move again.

When little Kaemi had first moved, Sakue and I had looked at each other, our hearts full of joy. We had hugged each other, laughing and delighted.

I wish Sakue had been here. To look at me with her calm, gentle eyes, to comfort me. I had always thought that when I conceived, my maidservants would have been there with me, to celebrate the joy of my upcoming child.

Instead, all I had was a silent room, and the wary watch of my maidservant. “What’s wrong?” she said, her voice flat as she moved toward me.

“I’m fine,” I managed to say. “It just moved. My baby just moved.”

She nodded and retreated. I stopped rearranging the flowers and retreated to my futon, one hand still curved around the gentle slope of my belly. I saw how big it had grown, my flat stomach becoming a protruding bump that poked the front of my kimono.

I instinctively thought of little Kaemi, and the writhing, slick, red little thing that had come out of Sakue.

Was one of those in me? A little bundle, just like Kaemi, to sit in my arms and cry and grasp at my hair with tiny fists?

I stopped myself. I was thinking of my child with affection. No. I couldn’t do that. This was the seed of my enemy. I couldn’t afford to regard it with any sort of love. This was the child of the beings that had pillaged my home and killed my friends. I couldn’t… I couldn’t…

I didn’t want to be a mother! Not now, not here, it wasn’t the _time_ or the _place_ , and what sort of life could I hope for with my baby, the little thing inside me? What sort of life here would it have? With the cold, staring court, already observing me like an animal in a cage— how would they treat a half-breed child? My child would know nothing but isolation. And that was only if it was a girl. If I had a boy, it would be taken away from me, maybe from birth, maybe when it was older, to fight in faraway battles against my own people. And if I did have a daughter, what then? What sort of fathers would Nagamaru and Nanazawa be? Oh gods, I wanted it to be out of me. I wanted it to be gone. I wanted to be home. I wanted my mother.


	25. Chapter 25

It grew bigger and bigger. It felt strange inside me. I could feel it in my womb, moving, it seemed, from one side of me to the other. It was so big. Babies grew so quickly. 

“Human girl, I can’t sit in your lap any more!” complained Satsumi. I loosely cradled her with one arm to keep her happy, shifting my belly away from her clutching hands. 

“I’m with child, Satsumi. You have to be gentle with me, or your older brothers will be quite mad at you.”

“When will you give birth?” she said. “It’s annoying when you’re pregnant. You can’t do anything with me.”

***

Okaju sat before me, legs crossed as a maidservant poured us tea. Now that I was no longer a valued captive, I was not allowed so many layers of kimono. Just a simple sleeping kimono covered me, and my belly protruded from my clothes, visible and shameful. All of their eyes were upon my belly, the maidservant and Okaju’s. I felt as if I weren’t even a human, merely an extension of the child that was growing inside me.

“Misayo-hime,” said Okaju, and he was calm. ‘Whatever child you bear, male or female, I will acknowledge as mine.”

“Would that make it any different?” I said. I was surprised how hollow my voice was. “Either way, the child is going to have a miserable life.”

“It would a far worse life if it didn’t have a father,” he said. He sipped his tea, and the fragrance spread round the room. It smelled of flowers, and for a moment I thought of home, and the comforting smell of my mother’s room.

“Will I have to give it up, it it’s a boy?” The words burst out of me.

“Yes.” His words were fateful, final. “If it’s a boy, my mother, or Nagamaru’s mother will give it to the army. It will be as good as dead. But if it is a girl, it will become a noblewoman. A commander, an advisor, a queen’s attendant… perhaps even the queen’s lover, with our support. Pray for it to be a girl.”

His voice was unsteady. His eyes were blurry with tears. 

“Whatever gender it is, it’s never going to be one of us. Not a human, or an Oni,” I said.

“It will not. But I will protect it and I will love it, if it is my own child, and even if it is not.”

I rested my chin on my hand, and gazed down at my belly. I said no more. I was comforted, in a small way, by the thought that my baby would have an anchor in the cruel world of the Oni. But I quickly banished that thought, horrified. Being glad of that… that would mean I was glad to be giving birth to a child, and I wasn’t. I wasn’t the least bit glad. I hated having to give birth. I hated it!

But even as I said the words, I knew they were fading away, meaning nothing. 

***

I could feel Nanazawa’s harsh breath against the top of my head. He thrust between my legs, his cock rubbing against my lower lips. 

“I hate having to share you,” he hissed. “I hate having to know another man can use you like I can…”

His waist arched, and his member pressed against me, and I felt a wavering hot lust burn within me. I wanted him inside me. I was wet, I was eager to mate with him. Even with my belly as big as it was, I longed for his thick hardness to thrust inside me, to fuck me until I screamed. 

I dug my fingernails against his knees until I came, bile rising in my throat until I nearly shrieked. The pleasure rose inside me until it exploded. My back bent, my jaw stretched in a silent scream, and I slumped against him. 

The bonfire inside me had subsided into a languid burn, and I panted, my fingers pressing against the hard muscles of Nanazawa’s abdomen. He breathed heavily, his hands grasping my small breasts. He twisted my sensitive nipples, sending me into a shivering spurt of pleasure. My legs curled, my back stiffened, and the ecstasy that was penetrating my core overwhelmed my mind. I moaned and cried until he released, and the hot liquid dripped off my thighs. Then I slumped forward, my chest heaving in heavy pants. My baby kicked. I prayed for it to end.

Thankfully, Nanazawa dressed and left the room, not saying a word. I was left on my own to crouch on the ground. My baby moved again. I could see it in my mind’s eye, eyes burning, claws scratching at the wall of my womb.

The door slid open. A maidservant took her place in the corner of a room, watching me with wary red eyes. I rolled onto my back, sobs welling beneath my throat. 

I knew I was never going home. I was going to stay here until I died. Until my belly swelled again, until I gave birth to more and more children, as many as they wanted. 

I didn’t want to live in this world anymore. Even if I had to give up all hope of seeing Sakue or my mother again. 

I could crawl over to the vase and smash it, take a shard, and cut my throat. It wouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes. Just fifteen minutes. And then it would all be over. 

But the maidservant was here. If I tried to kill myself, she would rush in, call others, and restrain me.

There had to be another way.

I had heard of other ways to kill oneself. When captives were taken, chained or tied with their hands above their head, they had taken their tongues in between their teeth and severed them. They had choked to death on their own blood. 

My tongue, soft and pliable, rested between my front teeth. I bit down. The sudden pain shot through my jaw, as if someone had stabbed between them with a dagger. I tasted blood. I bit deeper. 

The pain was so sharp and sudden I instinctively loosened my jaw. Tears beaded on the edges of my eyes. I swallowed, with difficulty, and tightened my jaw once more.

The pain lanced through my head, and I had to stop again. Blood was welling from the bite marks on my tongue. I couldn’t go on. The pain was too much. My mind went hazy as the agony stabbed through my brain, and I breathed deeply as the pain faded away.

I was too much of a coward even to kill myself. My bloodline, as long and proud as the emperor’s himself, had stopped with me, this cowardly woman, who hadn’t the courage to kill even herself. I clenched my fists as the blood seeped through my mouth, and lay still.


	26. Chapter 26

“Human girl,” said Lady Inaka, “I want you to come with me.”

“I am not feeling very well today, Lady Inaka.”

“You look fine. You will come with me.”

I knew, by the look in her sharp golden eyes, she would not permit me to do otherwise, so I pressed my palms to the floor and managed, with difficulty, to pull myself up.

“Where are we going?” I asked, with difficulty. My tongue was still swollen from my attempt, and I sounded slurred. I hoped she didn’t notice.

“To the gardens,” she answered curtly, leaving the room. I followed her, my head bowed. We passed several Oni noblemen or women as we walked the hallways, but I kept my gaze on the floor and did not make eye contact. I didn’t want to bear their obtrusive gaze.

The garden, that had seemed so vibrant and lively the last time I had seen it, now seemed to have lost its color. It had become the dull green of trodden grass. The sky, once so blue and fresh, was clouded and gray, the color of dirty fleece. I followed Lady Inaka through a path lined with dense shrubbery. I had to bat several vines out of my way. One hit me across the face, a sharp sting of pain.

Now we were in the middle of the courtyard, at the bottom of a tall tree. Lady Inaka sat me against its trunk, and she positioned herself across from me, on the grass.

“You are pregnant,” she said.

“Yes, my lady.”

“Your child will be my grandchild.”

“Perhaps, my lady.”

She glared at me, and I flinched. Then she seemed to relax, and looked somewhere at the sky. “I know Nagamaru’s mother. She is not interested in having grandchildren. She has ceded her grandchild to me.”

I nodded, my hands folded across my lap.

“Human. I want to talk with you a little bit. Have you had children before?”

I shook my head. The bark of the tree was coarse and rough against my back, and I shifted to get a better position.

“It is hard to have a child out of wedlock. My first, Makaze, was within my marriage. I raised him well. Eventually he decided to become a commander, as befitting a man. He made me proud. But I had gotten bored. I had fooled around with a samurai and became pregnant. I bore Minehiro, and the samurai’s mother gave him to the military.”

Her face and voice were impassive. I couldn’t quite understand how she could be this emotionless.

“You must be prepared, as a mother, to give up your child. As a human, I understand it must be hard for you. But if it is my grandson, you must understand that I will give it to the military. When I gave birth, I knew that I had to give up my son. You must be prepared for the same thing.”

I looked down at my belly. I imagined, for a moment, that a boy was growing inside me. Curled safely, unaware of the tortures that heralded him through his birth. For a moment, all I wanted to do was hug him, clutch him in my arms, shield him from the horrors of this world.

“But it’s my child!” A cry burst out of my throat. I was on my hands and knees, panting. “I can’t just abandon it, if it’s a boy! It’s still my baby!”

I felt a hand on my shoulder, yanking me up. “No,” Lady Inaka hissed. “You are in the Oni court now. You must realize what binds you. If you bear a boy, you must give it up.”

I stared at her face, at her lined, focused face. I bowed my head again. “I kn… I know what you say is tr-true, but…” I was stuttering. I could hear myself, my voice high and cracked. My tongue stung.

“What I say _is_ true.” Lady Inaka cut me off. “We have nothing more to discuss here. You must accept it.”

All of a sudden, I felt weary. All my tears, my begging, it had all been in vain. Nothing I said would make a difference. There was not a single thing I could do to change anything. I had no power. I had no standing.

I slowly picked myself up, brushing the blades of grass off my kimono. “Very well, Lady Inaka. I appreciate your understanding words.” My voice was broken. I wanted to be sad. I wanted to cry and throw myself at her feet and plead for her mercy. But all I felt was bitterness. Nothing I could do would make a difference. The Oni would look at me with cold eyes and deny me anything resembling dignity, they would strip it away and laugh at my despair. They would take my home, my body, my own child away. There really was no reason to fight back anymore. I had no more tears to shed.

I felt my fingernails cut into my palms. _One day_ , I swore, _I will live to see you despair, your sons killed, your court in flames. Even if it takes me twenty years, fifty years, an entire lifetime._

I thought of Keiichiro, his head lying on the ground. Of Suzume, and her neverending misery. Of Sakuro, his sword buried in his abdomen. My father, murdered and discarded like a piece of trash.

I bowed low, but when I straightened up, she was looking at me, her gaze narrowed.

“I don’t like the look in your eyes, human girl.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all my readers and commenters, I appreciate every one of you!

The pain was so sudden, so jarring, I woke immediately.

The sun was waning. Dim white light filled the room. I squirmed under the covers, the sudden pain not unlike when I had more intense period cramps. But I had not had a period in nine months.

The realization hit me like a blow to the head. I scrambled up, but as I reached my feet, another spasm spread throughout my body, making me drop to my knees.

I crawled my way to the door, and slid it open. My breaths were coming in pants.

“Help me!” I screamed. “Please help me! I’m giving birth!”

It too a few moments of calling for help, but soon there were feet running down the hallway, and the door was wrenched open, and I was being pulled to my feet.

“Misayo!” I heard Nagamaru’s voice rise above the worried murmurings. “What’s happening? Are you all right?”

“Men, stay out!” screamed a younger maidservant, shoving at him with her small hands. He stumbled back, but then lashed forward with his horns. The maid met him halfway, her long, spiraling horns hitting his with a _clack_.

“No fighting!” yelled another maidservant, an older woman with short horns and a blue kimono. She pulled me through the door, slamming it shut and dragging me backward.

My heart was thudding. The pains were coming closer together, so intense it felt like someone was gripping my womb between their hands and _squeezing_.

I heard a shout from outside the door. Nanazawa had arrived. I heard high, shouting voices. The maids weren’t happy with his presence. The floor shook. But the door stayed closed.

The pain reached a peak. My knees buckled and a scream welled in my throat. The maidservants were supporting me, but they weren’t doing anything else.

“Help me!” I wept. I was crying. The agony was too much. I felt like I was going to black out. Is this how Sakue had felt? How could she have kept silent so late into her labor? I was only a few minutes in and I was screaming with pain.

The maidservants looked at each other, their brows furrowed. I felt ugly reprehension erupt within me. “What… why aren’t you checking me?” I managed.

One maidservant coughed and averted her eyes, a strangely shy, coy action that made me want to rip her hair off. “Well, human girl… by now, Oni women have usually had the baby.”

For a moment, confusion filled my mind. Then the fog cleared. Oni women had the natural strength of their species, _of course_ the labor would be incredibly brief. The vaginal muscles would push out the baby in no time. But I was a human, and birth was difficult. It could kill me. I was on my own.

I took a deep breath. They still supported me, thank gods. I closed my eyes and pushed.

The pain ripping through me nearly made me black out. I was being gashed open by razor-sharp blades; they were shredding my belly apart.

My head tilted back, and for a moment, I was somewhere else, in another land, another time, and it was just me and the grooves in the ceiling, and only when another stab of agony made its way down my body did I snap out of it.

It felt like a burning hot poker was coming out instead of a baby. My head swam. A cry welled in my throat.

I wanted it to end soon. It did not.

After, it seemed, hours and hours of agony, wetness drenched my knees. My water had broken, finally. Suddenly aware of the restraining hands supporting my body, I wrenched myself away.

“Let me walk,” I wheezed, and took a shaky step forward. I nearly collapsed, but gritted my teeth and endured, hobbling over to the wall. I braced myself against the solid surface and took a deep breath in, a deep breath out.

The pain was too much. It was pure agony, every moment a living hell. My gaze wavered, went black. I screamed.

Blood stained my thighs.

I wanted to die. I didn’t want to stand this torture a moment longer. I was pregnant with a child I never wanted, a child that was not even human, and probably not even the last one I would bear.

I saw my fate looming beyond me, an endless tunnel with no light at the end. I would have more children, boys and girls with red hair, red eyes, little fangs that cut into my breasts. I would forget the faces of my mother, my maidservants. I would grow old and die here. My children would never be accepted. They would always be on the periphery of the Oni world. My boys would slaughter humans indiscriminately, never meeting their own mother. My girls would paint their faces and wrap themselves in expensive silks, their horns long and curved, their mouths bared in laughing grins. And inside, they would always cry.

I wanted it to be over. I wanted my life to be stubbed out here, to end the misery I would bring.

_“Misayo-hime, it’s all right. It will be over soon. Just push.”_

Sakue’s gentle, calm voice echoed through my mind, like soothing water washing over my body. And for a moment, Sakue was here, supporting me, all around me, her voice echoing, her warm face pressed against me. I felt cool hands on my shoulders, a forehead resting against mine. And my body heaved, and my body pushed, and my baby came out.

Hands caught it, before it hit the ground. A cry filled the room, a high wail that I recognized.

I collapsed to the ground, my teary gaze seeking out the baby in the maid’s arms. It was small and bloody, just like Kaemi, and soon another maidservant was washing it in a bowl of water. The blood washed off, and its tiny, frail body was revealed. It had two small bumps on its forehead, and vivid red hair.

“It’s a boy,” said a maidservant, and my heart fell out of my chest.

“No!” I screamed, reaching for him, but the maidservant was pulling away, her arms wrapped around the baby, and she was walking to the door, and she was leaving, leaving with my _child_ —

“NO!” My voice was incredibly loud, and I lunged forward. Hands held me back, and the woman disappeared through the doors.

And my son was gone.

I slumped over, sobbing. Misery and the residual pain of childbirth wracked my body. I heard a roar from the hallway. Nanazawa. For once, I was urging him on, willing him to beat down the maidservant, take my son in his arms and return him to me. But fate was cruel. His yells died away.

The maidservants pulled at me, urging me to return to the futon. I stood up, my knees wobbling, my body feeling limp and dead, before another pain tore through my body.

For another moment I wondered if it was just the afterbirth coming out, but the pain was too intense, and the feeling in my belly was too heavy for it to be that.

_What?_

I screamed again, falling to my knees. The maidservants erupted, their buzzing like white noise to my ears. I felt searing pain between my legs. Remembering my midwifery training, I slid my hands between my legs, probing within me, to find another head, another baby coming out of me. Twins.

I gasped and choked, my mind clearing enough for me to see the concerned faces of the maidservants. They were speaking, asking me questions. I didn’t hear them.

I pushed, hoping against hope for this one to _please_ be a girl, to _please_ let me hold her in my arms and feed her, and protect her, and—

It came out of me, faster this time, and I was holding it, still attached to the umbilical cord. I had this one in my arms, and I would never let go. Even if it was a boy, I would fight whoever tried to take it from me, until I scratched their eyes out and broke their bones. Either I would die or they would.

I cradled it, brushing a hand across its head. It moved, and I dug a finger into its mouth, clearing away the blockage so it could cry. It did, and the loud, clear sound was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard.

Hands reached for it, and I lashed out, repelling them. No one was going to take my baby away from me. _No one._

It writhed, and I gripped and broke the umbilical cord, separating it from me. It moved its legs as I broke its lifeline, and I saw.

“It’s a girl,” I said. And I cried with joy.


	28. Chapter 28

My baby slept happily, her face pressed against my breasts. The warm feeling filled me so utterly I felt as if my insides were filled with fleece. All I could see was my baby’s cute face, her sweet little hands curled into fists. I could even overlook the two bumps that rose from her forehead. Her hair was dark and her eyes were dark, like mine, and that was all I needed to know.

My kimono had fallen off my shoulders to pool on the ground. I sat with my legs crossed, supporting my baby with two arms.

“She’s so cute,” cooed Nagamaru, leaning closer to put his face next to hers. “What shall we name her? I’m thinking—“

“Tamae,” I said, interrupting him. “Her name is Tamae.” I had decided, a long time ago, that if I had a girl, her name would be Tamae. I had heard the name when I was walking in the village with Sakue, and a mother had called to her daughter, _Tamae, you come back here!_ At the time, I had thought of how beautiful the name was, of how innocent and cheerful the child had been, running to her mother. The name put me in mind of laughing children throwing a ball around, a warm, comforting feeling enveloping me whenever I heard it.

“Well, that’s a pretty name, but my mother’s name is Hamari and—“

“She’s mine,” I said. "A girl belongs to her mother, remember? You have no say in this.”

Nagamaru drew back, his face vaguely shocked, but he gave in and smiled apologetically. “Very well. Tamae it is. You are the mistress, Misayo.”

I could tell he was being sarcastic, but I didn’t even care. I stroked Tamae’s hand with my finger, and she grasped it her tiny hand. Even as my body longed for my other child, I had one in my arms, and that was all the mattered.

My father had been wrong when he told us that Oni babies were born with horns, I thought, as Tamae scrunched her eyes and waved her unsteady little arms through the air.

“What are those things on her head?” I asked, fingering the bumps beneath her skin. They didn’t feel solid at all. They felt soft, like cartilage.

“Those are her horns,” said Nagamaru. He ran a finger delicately over her forehead. “When she gets older, they will harden. When she reaches about five or six years old, they will start to emerge.”

I stared at her, at her soft little body as she began to seek out my breast again. Her warm mouth on me made my body relax, my milk flowing in a steady stream.

“Tamae,” I whispered. “Tamae, Tamae.”

Nagamaru’s hand tightened on my shoulder and he leaned in for a kiss, but I jerked away. “Don’t touch me.”

He drew away, for once acknowledging my complaints. “My apologies. I know after birth you must still be feeling bad. But just a kiss couldn’t hurt?”

“No,” I said firmly. I lifted Tamae up to my face and pressed my face against hers. “You’re such a strong baby, aren’t you? So big and strong,” I whispered.

“Let me hold her,” said Nagamaru. I held her to my chest, refusing to let his searching hands anywhere near her.

“Please,” said Nagamaru. “She’s my daughter, too. I just want to hold her for a moment.”

I felt tempted to tell him that there was a very good chance she wasn’t his daughter, as although Nagamaru had dark hair so did I, and she could have inherited that from me. But I decided to relent and handed her to him. He rocked her in his arms as she whimpered from her loss of support and gently shushed her. I transferred my gaze to the door, wondering why Nanazawa hadn’t visited yet.  
He was probably still mourning the loss of his son. His loss. As to why he wouldn’t _want_ to be here with the most beautiful child in the world, I didn’t know. It was probably better, anyway. Nanazawa could barely stop himself from attacking his own sister. God forbid if that savage ever had an actual baby to take care of. He needed to stay away from my precious child.

Somewhere, deep inside me, a hazy awareness made me realize these feelings weren’t mine. These were the product of post-pregnancy bliss, a natural reaction that made any mother love her baby. But I didn’t care in the slightest. I was with Tamae, and that was the only thing that mattered.

Nagamaru’s long, dark hair tickled Tamae’s face, and he brushed it out of the way. “She looks just like you,” he commented.

“She’s too young to look like anyone yet,” I said. “It’s only been a few days since she was born. She looks kind of like a monkey, actually.”

“Absolutely not,” said Nagamaru. “I’m telling you, she looks just like you. She has your nose. Your nose is kind of crooked, isn’t it? Can’t you see?”

“Not really,” I said. “Is my nose really crooked?” My mother had always told me I looked rather like my father, with his thick eyebrows and small, pointed nose. My mother had been the one with the red lips and arched eyebrows, her entire face regal except for her bent, bumpy nose. My father had teased her about it often.

I brushed my hair back, watching Nagamaru stroke her face, careful to keep his long nails from hurting her. He seemed so different from the man who had gouged my wound open the night after I had defeated him, who had laughed at me in sadistic glee as I cried in pain.

A wary, grudging part of me warned myself that indeed he was the same man, and that he would keep on being the same man even as he held my child. But I thrust that thought away from me, not willing to let any negative thoughts interfere with this happy time.

Tamae began to wail.

“Come on, she’s hungry. Give her back,” I said, holding out my arms for her. Nagamaru handed her over and I nestled her securely in my arms again, giving her my breast. She sucked, relieving my aching breasts of the milk that swelled them, and I sighed, letting my head drop down. A pang of sadness hit me as I wished that my maidservants could have been here to coo over her.

The sun streamed in through the window, illuminating the red roses in the vase, shining onto the blue bedspread of the futon.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Been dealing with some pretty serious personal problems lately. I just wanted to thank you all for viewing and commenting, you guys keep me going. Love you.

I wondered where my son was.

Was he being fed by another woman? Undoubtedly. Was the woman treating him as his own son? I didn’t know. As much as I hated the thought of my baby accepting another woman as his mother, the thought of him left alone, without any warmth, to cry all by himself, hurt me more. I could only hope that he was being loved. Although as I thought of Nanazawa, his anger and hurt, I could only dread the kind of man my son would become.

Tamae slept soundly beside me, for a few hours, anyway. Then she would wake and demand milk and cry no matter how much I comforted her. I was reminded of Kaemi, and how she would wail and wake Sakue at all hours during the night, except this time I couldn’t just bury my head beneath the pillow and ignore the cries. I had to sit up and cradle and comfort her, with my head pounding and mind hazy from lack of sleep, with no maidservants, and just the flickering lights of the lanterns to keep me company.

My nipples _hurt_.

I wanted to take a bath, and wash off all the filth and encrusted milk that had accumulated on my body during the past few weeks.

But I couldn’t stop thinking of my son. Lady Inaka hadn’t visited me yet, so I couldn’t ask her where he was. The image of him, left alone in a sea of cold sheets, kept emerging in my mind. Perhaps I was going crazy from lack of sleep. But I needed to find him.

I stumbled onto my feet, swaying at the sudden change in gravity. I had been sitting or lying down for the past few weeks, and the world revolved around me until I put a hand on the wall to steady myself.

I quietly slid open the door and looked back and forth to see if anyone was coming down the hallway. Then with one last look at Tamae, who still sleeping deeply in the nest of covers, I stepped out and pushed the door closed.

I thought of the last time I had seen my son, in the maidservant’s arms. So small. Tears started in my eyes. _I didn’t even get to hold him_.

I walked down the hallway, my feet making little sound on the wooden floor. I peered into the rooms that lined the hall. Most were empty, but some housed sleeping couples, some men and women, some women and women. I saw two young, dark-haired girls sleeping in each other’s arms, and was suddenly reminded of the times I spent sleeping with my maidservants, keeping each other warm and comforting each other through the long winters. Although judging by the way one girl’s leg was hooked around the other, and her hand cupping her breast, their relationship was probably quite different from ours.

I moved on. Room after room moved past me. There were more people, now. I heard murmurs and whispers, snatches of conversation. Arguing, flirting. Through the cracks in the doors, I saw a woman drinking sake and hanging off her lover’s shoulder, laughing loudly. A small girl curled up on her father’s lap. A man arguing with his sister about something. I felt like a spirit, peering in on all these people’s lives. Not a part of this world, and would never be.

I didn’t see my son.

I felt frustration rise in my throat. Where was he? He had to be here. I moved faster, almost gliding over the ground. A man crouching over a woman, their limbs entwined in lovemaking. Her groans made heat rise to my face, and I moved on quickly. A man counting money, silver coins littered on the ground. A small boy leaning out the window, looking at the moon.

I heard sobbing. A familiar voice.

I froze where I was, in the dim hallway. The sound was so alien to my ears, I almost didn’t comprehend it. Sobbing? Him?

I followed the sound, past two doors, until came to a screen door with fading, peeled paper. I reached out a hand—since when did my arm become so pale, so thin— and slid it open a fraction.

Nanazawa was crouching facedown, his face pressed against the floor. Harsh, hoarse gasps leaked from his mouth. His entire body shook, wracked with sobs.

His room was bare, a few clothes scattered around here and there and a sword lying in the corner. That was all there was. His futon was disorganized, the covers crumpled and tossed aside.

His strong, solid form was shaking, as frail as a leaf in the wind. I felt startled, even a little scared by what was happening to him. All he had ever shown was anger and lust. This was completely new to me.

As soon as I wondered why he was acting this way, the answer came to me. I knew what he was crying about. His son.

He cried and cried, the misery evident in his voice, high and pathetic. I looked at him, felt his sadness. But I couldn’t muster up the slightest bit of sympathy for him. This was the man who had killed Keichiro, helped destroy my home. This was the man who had raped me, mutilated one of his own men on a whim. And he was crying? I was the one who had given birth. I had carried my son for nine months in my body. I had seen my son ripped from my body, taken away from me before I was allowed to touch him. He had no _idea_ what it was like.

 _You motherfucker,_ I thought. _You deserve every bit of loneliness you get._

I turned back and walked down the hallway to my room. Midway there a maid intercepted me, asked me what I was doing out of my room. I answered that I had ran out of water and was looking for some. She escorted me back and ran to look for water. I lay next to my daughter and thought of my son, where he was, how he was. I knew I would never see him again.


	30. Chapter 30

Tamae was in a good mood, for once. Her eyes were flicking all over the place, her mouth open in an inquisitive circle. She moved restlessly, forcing me to bundle her up tighter in my arms.

“She’s so active,” said Nagamaru. He was crouching behind me, looking over my shoulder at Tamae. “You need to put her down once in a while. Let her move around.”

I squirmed, not liking the way Nagamaru was so close to me. He tightened his legs, trapping me in my place, and pressed his face into the nape of my neck. The hot breath against my skin made the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.

“How are you feeling lately?” he murmured against my skin, one hand coming up to cup my breast. His legs spread out, caging me in.

“Let go of me,” I protested, beginning to struggle. Tamae began to whimper, and I stilled, even as Nagamaru’s hand slid underneath my kimono. He squeezed my breast, taught with milk.

“It’s been a little while since you’ve given birth, Misayo. You should have healed by now.” His spidery fingers were making their way down my thigh, chill against my hot skin.

“I’m not. I—“

His nails dug into my slit. “Stop lying. I know you’re fine. You’re just making excuses.”

I stared at Tamae. Her little face was so dear, so innocent. She looked up at me with big dark eyes, unaware of what was happening to me. To her, I was just her mother, her mama, the anchor of her life.

“Please. Not now. Not with my baby here. Please—“ My voice was so small, so pathetic.

Nagamaru leaned me forward, his hands catching on the hem of my kimono. He yanked it up above my waist, pressing himself against me. I could feel his cock against my opening, hot and swollen.

“Look. You’re wet like a whore. I know you want this.” He thrust against me, not entering in, just rubbing.

I was on my hands and knees, Tamae underneath me. I felt my breaths coming in short pants. I pressed my thighs together, but he just forced himself in. Still sore from birth, I let out a plaintive cry as he entered. Hearing me, Tamae wailed as well, her high, shrill cry piercing my ears.

I hurt. My entrance stretched and ripped as he entered, blood trickling down my thighs. I wasn’t ready. I hadn’t fully recovered from my birth. But still he took me.

I pulled down my kimono, giving Tamae my breast. I wanted her to stop crying. That was all I wanted. She suckled innocently, unaware of what was happening to her mother.

A deeper humiliation I could not think of, of being defiled in front of my newborn baby.

_I am sorry, Tamae. Your mama is not strong enough to resist._

My back arched, my mouth gaping in a moan as he penetrated deeper. Deeper and deeper. Despite the pain, pleasure lit the ends of my nerves on fire, heat spreading to every corner of my body. He gripped my waist and slammed himself further. My folds tightened around him, urging ejaculation, no matter how much my mind screamed at me to stop.

Nagamaru gripped my head, turning it so that it forced his way. He kissed me, his red tongue probing deep into my mouth.

My shoulders thrust backwards as he thrust forward, spurring me into climax, my fingers digging onto the floor. His fingers pinched my clit slightly, just enough to send a wave of pleasure throughout my body.

Tamae suckled, blissfully unaware. She was just a baby, unable to understand what happening to me.

“Oh… if I get you pregnant this time your child will be mine for sure, hm?” His breathless voice was in my ear, low and smooth as silk. He gripped my breast in one hand, forcing a spray of milk onto the ground. The sudden pain nearly made me black out, agony erupting in my breast as he twisted it.

My climax exploded in me in a sudden burst, my womb tensing as hot semen spread through my body. I tightened my jaw as a scream of pleasure nearly escaped my throat. My arms trembled, my legs gave way.

I lay on the ground, my face pressed into the pillow. I could feel tears starting in my eyes, and the small body beneath me moved.

My despair almost overwhelmed me, swamping my body. I wanted to cry. I wanted to yell and rail and beat him with my fists like a child.

But I was not a child anymore. I was a woman. I had to be strong, both for Tamae and for me.

I swallowed, thrusting my shoulders back to try and throw him off. “Come on. Get off me.” I was surprised at how bitter I sounded. My voice was hoarse and low.

He unwillingly rolled over, letting me sit up. I gripped Tamae in my arms, shifting so I was sitting against the wall. I could feel liquid seeping down my thighs, warm and wet. Bile rose in my throat, and heat obscured my gaze. My nails dug into my kimono.

“You’ve got a scary look on your face, Misayo,” Nagamaru commented, rolling on the ground like a cat.

_I will live to see you die one day, Nagamaru. Even if it takes me a lifetime._

***

Satsumi looked at Tamae, her yellow eyes wide. She was hesitant, holding her arms out, then snatching them back.

“I wanna hold her,” said Satsumi.

“Go on, then.”

“What if I hurt her?”

“Be gentle.” I shifted Tamae in my arms, and offered her to the older Oni girl. Satsumi took her with trembling arms, holding her close to her chest.

“Hi,” she whispered to Tamae. “I’m your Oba-san. But I’m only fifteen years older than you. I’m going to be like a big sister. We’ll have lots of fun together!”

As I watched them, I knew that there would be one support for my daughter in the Oni world. Satsumi would always be there for her. She rocked the baby in her arms and smiled, giggled and laughed when Tamae gripped her finger in her small fist.

Tamae soon began to cry, and I sat up and shifted my kimono as Satsumi regarded her, perplexed. “Why’s she crying? Am I holding her right? Is she hungry?”

“No, she’s just not used to strangers holding her. Give her to me.”

Satsumi’s eyes lit up in understanding as soon as I took Tamae and cradled her to my chest. Tamae stopped crying immediately, clutching me tightly.

I watched her for a while, smiling, then looked up at Satsumi. My smile abruptly disappeared,

She was staring at my chest, two red dots on her cheeks. I could see her hands trembling.

“Satsumi,” I said, trying to keep my voice level. “Because I’m breastfeeding, you have to realize that my chest is very sore… I can’t indulge you like I used to.”

“Since you had a baby, there’s milk in your breasts now,” she said. “Could I have a little? Just a tiny little bit? I promise I’ll be gentle.”

I looked down at Tamae. She wasn’t making a fuss. I guess I could… I mean, if I didn’t, Satsumi would get awfully angry, and at least she was asking this time.

“All right,” I relented. “Come on. But be gentle.”

Delighted, she lunged forward and thrust her hand down the front of my kimono. I squeezed my eyes shut as the suction started. She sucked incredibly hard, making pinpricks of pain erupt over my breast. Still, the feeling comforted me in a way, and I liked the way she snuggled close, pressing her warm face to my chest.

I supported her with one arm, Tamae with the other. The two pressed tightly against me made a flush rise to my own cheeks. My grip tightened on Satsumi as she wriggled between my legs, pressing against me in a facsimile of childhood longing.

The sudden spasm of pleasure made me stiffen, my eyes squeezing shut as I felt her rub between my legs, heat igniting the core of my belly. I felt my core begin to dampen as she rubbed her knee against me, and I unconsciously leaned forward, fucking myself on her.

The pleasure was burning away my mind. All I could think about was more, more. I remembered my nights with Tsuzuki no Sachijo, the way she licked me just right, flattening her tongue along my lower lips, digging my honey out of me. I could still remember her eyes, golden as the rays of the sun, and her perfect creamy skin, and the way she kissed me, and pleasured me, and her long fingers reaching inside of me. Her large breasts that overflowed from the palms of my hands, her silky hair that flowed across her shoulders…

Tamae cried.

I jolted. Satsumi was pressed against me, her teeth digging into my breast. Instinctively, I pushed her away.

I had been holding Tamae in an uncomfortable position, letting her head dangle. Shaking, I put my hand under her head to support her.

“Human girl—“

“Not now,” I said. She fell sullenly silent, her brows drawn in a frown.

All of a sudden, I felt a wave of exhaustion fall over me. I could feel wetness soaking my thighs, and had to suppress a shudder of disgust.

I clutched Tamae to my chest and managed to pull myself to my feet. “Let me leave, please,” I whispered, trying to keep my tears under control.

“Okay.” Satsumi seemed unsure, but she let me open the screen door. The maid beyond it, the same one who had fought Nagamaru the day I gave birth, stood beyond it, her face shocked and worried. She had been caring towards me before, and seemed to have some affection for me. She had often held my baby while I cleaned or ate.

“Please, could you take me back to my room?” I said, my voice revoltingly squeaky. She nodded, taking me by the arm and leading me down the hallway. My muscles stiffened at her touch, but I did not pull away from her.


	31. Chapter 31

”The court demands your presence.”

The maid said the words stoically, standing with her hands behind her back, watching as I stared at her with disbelief.

“Why—“

“I do not know.” Her answer was short. She was clearly not willing to answer me. I relented, shifting Tamae as I tried to stand up. “May I take my child?” I asked.

She shrugged, her expression unreadable.

I took this as a yes, and held my baby to my chest as I followed her out of the room.

Hallways we passed, past windows and rooms, the same ones I had passed on that fateful night, all the people with their separate lives and worries.

Why was I being taken to the courtroom? Had I done something wrong? Maybe Nanazawa was causing trouble. I hadn’t been in the courtroom for a year, ever since…

I stopped myself before I began to think. I couldn’t remember that. I couldn’t deal with it. I looked ahead and pushed it out of my mind. I didn’t want to cry and have another breakdown.

In the middle of my pregnancy I had been escorted to see a physician, and I started crying in the hallway. A small group of Oni had gathered around me until the maid had the good sense to stop trying to persuade me onward and take me back to my room. It had been a humiliating moment, wailing in front of all the gossiping Oni, and one which I did not wish to repeat.

As soon as I entered the courtroom all eyes turned upon me. I experienced the same dizzying sense of scale as I had when I first entered the hall. Almost at once, I was surrounded by curious Oni who wanted to see my baby.

Tamae, frightened by all the attention, began to whimper, and I clutched her tightly and hunched down, forcefully shouldering my way through the mob. My face burned. I hated how they thought little Tamae was a novelty, a gimmick to be pointed at and whispered about. When they did it to me it wasn’t so bad, but Tamae… I wouldn’t stand that happening to my daughter.

“Human girl!”

A harsh bark distracted me from my thoughts, the sudden sound making me jump. I knew that voice.

Nanazawa strode towards me, shoving away all the noblemen and women. He stopped in front of me, reaching out as if to grab my shoulders, then froze when he saw the bundle in my arms. He slowly lowered his arms, his face slack and disbelieving.

“Is that…”

I recoiled, pressing Tamae to my chest. “Get away from me!”

Nanazawa seemed unsure, his entire face morphing from sheer disbelief to apprehension. It was a strange emotion to see. He had a rough face—“the face of a criminal” my mother would have said—so to see such subdued emotions was a strange experience for me.

“So, that’s…” he murmured. “Is that… my daughter?”

He said the word _daughter_ like it was a forbidden word, almost—in a hushed sort of whisper.

“I don’t know.” I shifted Tamae in my arms, drawing my kimono sleeve to cover her face. “She could be. Or Nagamaru’s, or—“ I stopped myself. I didn’t know whether Nanazawa had heard of Okaju and I’s little ‘tryst’ or not. If there was even a chance he might cause trouble, I didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice my sudden pause, and only after a few seconds did he began speaking again.

“Since the other twin was mine,” he said, sounding like he was talking to himself, “That means this one would be too, right?”

I shrugged. “Kittens from the same litter can have different fathers.”

“Court is in session!” I heard a voice boom, and I was almost bowled over by the wave of Oni dashing backward to make room. I peeked over the shoulder of the Oni in front of me, and saw a clearing on the floor in front of the queen. It was occupied by a woman in samurai armor, her shoulders broad and her black hair loose to her elbows. She had a sheathed sword on her back, and when she turned her head sideways, I saw her face. She was a square-jawed and stern-faced woman, with eyes the color of solid jade.

Her mouth was moving, but I couldn’t hear much over the clamor of the court. I strained my ears, and heard “…Okibu.”

My heart lurched. I threw my bodily weight against the person in front of me—an annoyed-looking Oni father with a young boy strapped to his back—and he reluctantly stepped aside to let me through. I fought my way to the front, all the way keeping my ears out for anything else she said.

“…receive a ransom…”

I was at the front of the crowd at this point, leaning forward to catch her words. The queen, who was looking bored, suddenly snapped to attention and barked, “Be quiet!”

The noise ceased immediately. I fixed my eyes on the messenger woman, hanging on her every word.

“The payment will be delivered within a month, if the princess is sent immediately.”

My legs felt weak.

The queen sat up, her chin under her hand. “Tell her that the princess will be delivered immediately. Send her a lock of hair from the human, to seal the deal.”

The woman turned, her eyes seeking out the lone hornless human among the waves of Oni. I stepped forward, one hand outstretched, like I was reaching for the light while underwater.

She seized my arm, perhaps more harshly than she needed to, and grabbed a lock of hair. She unsheathed her sword. I barely winced when she held the blade against the side of my head and cut down, severing the lock as cleanly as a piece of meat. Her fingernails—blunted and short—grabbed it and tucked it inside her armor. She turned back to the queen and bowed.

“I will depart immediately, my queen.”

I began giggling. The overwhelming relief and joy swamped me, and my gaze went bright. I was going home. I was going home. _I was going home._

I hugged my legs, barely noticing the startled cries of my child. All of a sudden, a hand grasped my wrist and drew me up and away from the crowd

“Misayo-hime,” said the person immediately, once we had gotten far enough away from the crowd.

“Okaju,” I said, recognizing him. I stepped back.

His brows furrowed as he saw Tamae, still fussing away in my arms. “That baby. She is Nagamaru’s, correct?”

“I don’t know. She could be Nagamaru’s, Nanazawa’s, even yours.” I turned, wanting to walk away back to my rooms, but Okaju’s hand resting on my shoulder stopped me. I slapped him away. “What do you want, Okaju? You haven’t been in to see my baby since I gave birth. Clearly, it’s not her you care about.”

“I promised you I would accept the baby as my own,” he told me, “but Nagamaru has already accepted her as his child.”

“Already?” I cast a quick glance down at Tamae, who was quieting down, but still whimpering. “But he doesn’t even know if she’s his!”

“It _is_ strange,” said Okaju. “Nagamaru never liked children very much, and children liked him even less. But even so, he seems to want to take responsibility over you and your child.”

“But I’m going home,” I said, and began to brighten. “I’m going home with my baby and none of this is going to matter.”

He looked away, his face tightening. “Misayo-hime,” he said, then paused. “I… I have caused you much grief during your time here. But if you will listen to me for a moment?”

I thought about turning away and just leaving him. I almost did. But Okaju, of all people here, had treated me the best. He had not laid a finger on me. He was still my father’s killer, and I would never forgive him for that, but he had not hurt me. Even if that was not a lot, it was something that I could appreciate.

“Go on,” I said.

“You won’t have a future if you return to the human world,” he said. “You won’t be able to marry. You’ll be shunned because of your half-breed baby. But if you stay here, you’ll have people who care about you. Your _child_ will have people who care about her. You’ll be able to live in comfort for the rest of your days.”

I felt boiling hot heat rise to my face. My hands clenched into fists. I wanted to shout, but I forced my voice to remain strangely calm. “Okaju. Makaze. While I have been here, I have been raped, tortured, had my other child taken away. Do you have _any idea_ of what I’ve been subjected to?”

He wasn’t looking me in the eyes.

“Look at me, you bastard.”

He looked at me.

“You promised my father that you would take care of me and protect me. But did you do it? No. You left me to be violated and humiliated. You have no right to tell me what I want. I want to go _home_. I want to be with the people I love. And if you, if you have the _gall_ to tell me that I am loved here—”

He bowed his head, his shoulders trembling. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice wavering.

“Shut up. If you have the gall to tell me I am loved here, than you aren’t paying attention. If I stayed here, I would be surrounded my people who wanted to rape me until I died. And my child… my child would be sentenced to a no lesser fate. Do you _understand_?” I grabbed the front of his kimono. “My own _child_. Here in this decadent court, what sort of fate could you imagine?”

“Misayo-hime—“

“You have no idea. You have no _idea_.”

I shook him so hard my hands hurt. “You have no idea of what suffering I have been subjected to here. I will go home and be loved. I will… I will…”

I was beginning to sob. I didn’t want to cry in front of him, so I turned away. He held my by my arms. He didn’t say a word.

He hugged me silently. I pressed my face into his shoulder, clutching Tamae close to me. She was crying, her wails attracting Oni to gather round me. I was embarrassed and humiliated. I wanted to sink into the ground and never come out. I wanted to push away from him, but my arm muscles wouldn’t work.

I was going home. The misery of my last years had been washed away. It didn’t matter anymore.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left, guys!

I stood outside the palace, holding Tamae stiffly. Horses were being loaded up with food and jugs of water, and people were strapping weapons to their backs, arguing with each other and laughing loudly.

The invading group that had taken me captive had been made out of men, but this time there were a few women with my group. Since this was a non-military excursion, they thought it would be prudent to send along some women to keep an eye on things. The women were mostly officials, sent to handle the details of the ransom, but there was a particularly tough-looking older lady giving orders who might have been a commander.

A man politely caught me by the arm and steered me towards an unmounted horse. Now that I was again a prized hostage I was being treated carefully. Even after the horrors of my last year here, they thought I was delicate enough that I would shatter if I was manhandled.

Satsumi had cried and wailed and asked me to send letters. I promised I would, even if I had absolutely no way to fulfill that promise—the humans and Oni were, after all, still at war. The Oni girl had committed abuses towards me, but I couldn’t find it in my heart to be angry at her. She was just a child.

Nagamaru had reacted very differently. He had lobbied the queen for a reconsideration of the ransom, and from the court gossip that I had heard had several shouting matches in the courtroom, but surprisingly, was very calm when he last met me. He was the sort of person who would act out and exaggerate his emotions, but for some reason, during our last meeting he didn’t shed a tear. He had hugged me and kissed me and held Tamae, but on the whole was subdued. Maybe he had gotten tired of me and moved on to a new lover. I didn’t care. I just wanted this all to be behind me.

I shifted Tamae, who was strapped to my back. She played with my hair contentedly, and I reached back to squeeze her hand.

“Misayo-hime!”

I looked back. A familiar white-haired figure, decked out in battle armor, was coming down the steps of the palace, tailed by another, equally familiar figure. Nanazawa stopped at the bottom step, while Okaju approached me.

“Okaju,” I said, wondering what to say.

“Good luck on your journey,” he said, bowing low.

“Thank you,” I said, and I felt a tired smile spread over my face. He looked at me, and then looked away. The sun shone down on both of us, and I shielded my eyes with my hand as I gazed up at him.

I could tell he wanted to say something to me, but he stayed silent. We stood there, aware of the heavy, oppressive thing between us.

“May you live happily the rest of your days,” he said, and gripped my wrist briefly. Then he stepped away and began walking back towards the palace.

He walked past Nanazawa, and the red-haired Oni watched him walk past him, watched his brother ascend the tall stairs that lead to the palace. Then he turned to look at me.

Nanazawa was too far away from for me to make out his expression properly. But he stood still for a very long time, and I stood still as well, and we looked at each other.

He was standing straight, almost stiff, with his sword strapped securely to his side, his red hair—still uneven and spiky from being chopped off, but long enough now to reach his collarbone— blowing in the breeze. For one insane moment, I thought I was looking at my son, at the man he would become.

“Misayo-hime!”

I started as someone yelled my name. I turned to look in their direction, and saw a man ushering me towards a horse. I glanced back at Nanazawa, but he was mounting the steps after Okaju, not looking back.

Tamae gurgled happily.

“Ssh, baby,” I said as I walked towards the horse.

**

The scenery changed, from wild forests to sparsely-habited countryside, and when I saw a human, dropping his staff and running away from the party, I cried. It had been a little over a year, but it seemed like forever since I had seen a fellow human being.

As we traveled, I remembered. We were coming closer and closer to home. From the vague recollection I had from traversing the land with the Oni group who had captured me, I recognized it. We were taking the same route.

I wondered where our little serving girl was buried.

The steady clip-clop of the horse’s calmed Tamae. She was much quieter when she was on a horse. When we stopped for the night and slept beside me, that was when she cried, her high, plaintive whine piercing the night and keeping all of us up.

I sat, my hands fisted in the fabric of my kimono. I was holding my daughter in my lap. The red walls of the tent seemed to close in on me. Tamae slept soundly, her dear little eyes closed tightly. I impulsively tugged her swaddling cloth over the two bumps on her head.

I heard a voice.

It was loud and commanding, the same tone she had used when telling the maidservants to clean up a mess, or berating the doorman for sleeping on the job, or scolding me when I made a clumsy move when we fought with the naginata.

The flaps of the tent parted, and a strong, upright figure strode in.

Her kimono was tightly bound, with her naginata slung across her back. She looked like a woman samurai, her hair tied back, her face pinched and stern.

She looked at me, and she crumbled.

I stood up and ran into her arms, into my _mother’s_ arms.

She smelled the way she always had, like old tea and coppery metal, so familiar even pressing my nose into a blade reminded me of her. Ever since I was child, ever since she hefted her weapon in her hands and let me run my unsteady fingers along it.

Her grip was strong, and she held me tightly and I couldn’t remember the last time she had held me and she was so warm and comforting and I was crying and my baby was crying and I couldn’t take it


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap, folks. Thanks to everyone for reading and staying with this story to the end!

“You didn’t forget me,” I said.

“Forget you? Misayo, I never forgot you. None of us did.”

“But you thought I was dead, eventually, didn’t you?”

Mother looked away for a moment. “Yes, for a while. After we came back to the house, we couldn’t find your body, so we thought that, you know, you had been taken hostage. But we didn’t… we didn’t get any news, nobody contacted us, and for a little while, I thought…”

She wiped at her eyes, and let out a breath. “But Sakue claimed a strange woman came to her, and told her that you were alive, and spoke in your voice. You know Sakue is an honest girl. If it had been Mareko or Emie I would have been suspicious, you know they’re flighty as anything, but Sakue… I had to believe her. She would never lie.

“So I sent messengers, I came into contact with the Emperor’s men from the North, and they told me… they told me… my husband had died, and you were most likely lost.”

She stopped then, and visibly swallowed.

“I didn’t believe them. I tried to contact the Oni. I sent messengers that disappeared. I traveled to where they were. I tried to… I tried so hard. Sometimes I thought about giving up. But you’re my daughter. I would never stop unless I found out what happened to you.”

Her hand found mine, and she squeezed it.

“When I came into contact with an Oni… it was so long. The fighting had died out by then, and I was finally able to… to negotiate, and finally they said they would, for a ransom they would return you.”

I squeezed her hand back, still awkwardly cradling Tamae in one arm. “I’m back now, mother. I’m home.”

She looked at me for a moment, her dark eyes on mine, before she transferred her gaze to the baby in my arms. “You’d better put the baby you’re taking care of down and come with me. Danjirou wants to see you again.”’

A felt a sweep of relief come over me at the sound of his name. Although I had never thought him to be dead—I would have definitely heard about the death of Aritomo Ashikage’s son while in the courts—I couldn’t stop myself from worrying. Now I knew he was safe.

“Misayo?”

I looked at her.

“Misayo, put the child down and come with me.”

“What? But this is my daughter. I can’t leave her.” The words slid out of me without thinking.

Mother looked at me for a moment, then at Tamae, her face set in an expression of disbelief. Slowly, it turned to a mixture of horrified disgust.

It was then I realized the implications of what I had said. “M-Mother, I—“

“You had a child by… by those monsters?” her voice was shaking. She stared at Tamae, her fists clenched. She stepped back.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice choked. “I couldn’t—I didn’t want it, but they took me—I’m sorry!”

She shook her head, her eyes miles away. “Misayo, you... they…”

There was a rustle at the far end of the tent, and the woman commander came out. “You may leave. Negotiations are complete.”

Mother stood up, clutching my hand. “Let’s go, Misayo.”

I followed her out of the tent, towards the horses. I held Tamae tightly, too tightly, and she started to cry, and I shushed and soothed her as I clumsily mounted the horse. I was used to riding horses, but it was difficult holding Tamae in one arm while I tried to get on the horse. My mother didn’t help me. She was looking at me, but her eyes were strangely blank, as if her mind was somewhere else.

I knew that my life was over in the human world. The humiliated gaze of my mother was enough to assure me of that.

***

Sakue looked almost the same as she always had. There were shadows under her eyes, and her cheeks looked a bit hollow, but she still stood straight, her hair was piled up on the top of her head, her kimono neat and orderly. She was looking at me, her calm, gentle eyes boring a hole through me.

“Misayo-hime,” she said, and her voice seemed artificial, a front she was putting on, like a smooth silk tablecloth covering a cracked table. “We were all so worried. I’m so happy to have you home again.”

“And I’m happy to be home,” I said. “How have things been, in my absence?”

“You know Emie got married. She’s expecting now. She wants Kaeko to be there at her birth. And Danjirou’s waiting back home…”

She stopped, her shoulders beginning to quiver. When she spoke again, her voice was trembling, “Misayo, I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Sakue. I’m—“

“You could have gotten out of the house. You could have left us there. You could have fled with us. There was a chance we could have made it! You didn’t have to come back to the house at all! We could all still be together, you, Emie, _everyone!”_ Tears were streaming down Sakue’s face, and her shoulders shook with sobs. “If I had just… run with you, and not hid…”

“Listen!” I yelled, and grabbed her, pulling her toward me. I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her face into the crook of my neck. “It’s not your fault. It’s not _anyone’s_ fault. It’s the _Oni’s_ fault. They came here and they destroyed our house and killed our servants, our friends, they killed them and took Suzume, little Suzume. She’s dead, Sakue. She’s died.” My voice was wavering, but I blinked my tears away as I gripped her and pressed my face into her hair. I felt hot tears on my skin as Sakue sobbed. “But it’s _not your fault_. Don’t ever think it is. I’m home. We’re home. We’re together again.” I broke away from her and looked around. “Where’s Kaemi?”

“She’s back at the house,” said Sakue, wiping her tears away with the sleeve of her kimono. “She’s very anxious to see her Oba-san… you know, she keeps calling you that, no matter how many times I…”

“I don’t care. Let her call me Oba-san. I’m her auntie, after all.”

“But Hime, that’s impossible! You’re a noble woman, you have marriage prospects to worry about! It’s not proper for you to—“

“Not anymore.” I cut her off, and drew Tamae, who had previously been sleeping soundly, from her bundle of blankets that had been crooked in the edge of my arm. I held her out to Sakue.

Sakue’s eyes widened as she saw Tamae, then she hesitantly took her up and cradled her in her arms. “What is this child? Why does it have these strange—“ she touched one of the fleshy bumps on Tamae’s head, eliciting a high wail from the tiny baby.

“She’s my daughter,” I said.

Sakue, balancing Tamae in one arm perfectly, as she had learned to do from having Kaemi, looked up, her face set in bewilderment. “What? What do you mean?”

We looked at each other for a moment, before the full weight of what I’d said came down on her.

 _“Misayo-hime!”_ she screamed, nearly falling onto her knees. “You—you couldn’t have had a baby, not a monster like this, this can’t be happening!“

“I—“

“Did they rape you? Did they make you have it? Were there many? Did they hurt you? Oh, Misayo-hime, _what did they do to you?”_

She was crying again, and Tamae was crying now, so I took my baby back and stood back to give her some room. She was on her hands and knees now, sobbing into the ground.

“It’s all right,” I said, and I don’t know in what way I said it that made her jerk her head back to stare me in the eye.

“No one will want to marry me now,” I said, “so I can stay here forever, with you, and Kaemi, and Tamae. A good thing can come out a bad thing, you see? If I had never had Tamae, I would have gotten married off, to somewhere far away, where you couldn’t visit or live with me.”

“But you’re ruined—Misayo, your reputation is ruined now, no one will—“

“I don’t care,” I cut her off, and I really didn’t, not now. I had been raped and tortured, had my dead father’s head paraded in front of me, and now, all this just seemed so _petty_. So what if no one wanted to marry me? I was home, I wasn’t in that den of evil with those terrible men, and I had my child with me. That was all I needed. “I’m home, I’m back with you. After what I’ve seen, Sakue, and after what happened to me, none of this matters anymore. None of it.”

She must have heard something in my tone, or seen something in my eyes, because she went very quiet, tears streaking her cheeks as she stared at me, her big, dark eyes unreadable.

Then she picked herself up, brushed some blades of grass off her kimono, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“So what’s this little one’s name?” with a shaky smile, she bent down to look into Tamae’s eyes. My baby was a little shaken by the hubbub of the last few minutes and was whimpering a little, but Sakue held out her arms and I placed her in her embrace. “Tamae.”

“Tamae! Like the little girl from the village?”

I beamed. “You remembered!”

Tamae touched Sakue’s face with her small, unsteady hand, and Sakue stroked her nose.

“She looks just like you,” she said. “She has your nose.”

A felt a laugh bubble up inside me, shrill and hysterical. “You think?”

“Yes. She’s so beautiful. Kaemi will be so happy that she has a little sister now.”

Sakue kissed Tamae’s nose, rocked her in her arms, and soon my baby was giggling again, back to her happy self.

Sakue took my hand in hers, soft and warm, and I squeezed it. She pulled me along the path, the familiar path, and I saw the old, gnarled oak I used to climb with Danjirou, and the pond I splashed in with my maidservants, and the worn stones were taking me home, home to my house in the countryside, home to my friends and my family.

 

_fin_


End file.
